If I Had Sons
by Ahh Siriusly
Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange would have gladly given her sons to the Dark Lord's service. However, as fate would have it, Bella had a daughter, who knows nothing of her true heritage. Find out what happens as she discovers what it means to be a Black. REVAMPED
1. Prologue

**If I Had Sons**

A/N: This fic is inspired by Bellatrix Lestrange's comment in HBP that said something like "If I had sons, I would gladly give them to service the Dark Lord." Never said anything about daughters. So this is my fic about Bellatrix Lestrange's daughter…

If there was something Bellatrix Lestrange learned in Azkaban, it was never give up hope. She knew, someday, somehow, her Lord would come and rescue her. She laughed silently to herself every time a Dementor glided past her dark, grimy jail cell. These were the Dark Lord's natural allies, a key to their success. Bellatrix had faith, oh yes she had faith. Rudolphus, her husband, tried his best to keep the faith, but he too failed in the end. Just like so many others of her Lord's followers. Lucius Malfoy, her sister's husband, he was the first to go back to "the Light". Bellatrix knew better of her brother-in-law, he couldn't bare part with his possessions and his comfy Wiltshire mansion. And then there was Severus Snape. He was like a younger brother to Lucius, so willing and eager to follow in his footsteps. But no, he had to betray the Dark Lord. He did the worst possible form of betrayal- he took a job as Dumbledore's Potion Master.

Ah, Albus Dumbledore. The only person her Lord ever feared. Surely he was a force fifteen years ago, but today, he was nothing but an old man, sitting comfortably in his leather bound chair, stroking his Phoenix, and complementing _dear_ Harry Potter on his latest achievement. Harry Potter, the bane of Bellatrix's existence. Even after getting out of her dark Azkaban cell Bellatrix knew what she had to do, and that was get rid of Harry Potter. A boy, a mere teenager, was the most dangerous threat to her Lord's life. But then again, he was so young, so innocent. _No, he wasn't innocent_. So many times, he stopped the Dark Lord from returning. Even the _worst_ Death Eater should have been able to get rid of this nuisance, but nobody could.

After breaking out of Azkaban, Bellatrix returned to her home she shared with her husband so many years ago. _Fifteen years ago_, she thought. She carefully wiped a thick layer of dust off a photograph. How she would have loved to be that happy and powerful again. Only the Dark Lord could provide that for her. Brushing her long, dark hair aside, Bellatrix moved to a photo album, long ignored by the awful events that had transpired. She flipped through the album, with pictures of her and her husband, pictures at her sister Narcissa's wedding, at her nephew, Draco's birth…and then, Bellatrix came to the pictures she had so long dreaded to see.

Sixteen years ago, Bellatrix Lestrange gave birth to a beautiful, baby girl. She had thick, dark hair, exactly like her mother's, and dark piercing eyes like her father. Though Lord Voldemort was shocked and upset this force of nature put one of his most loyal servants out of action for several months, Bellatrix could not have been happier. She and Rudolphus named their daughter Lyra, and the three were one of the happiest families that could be.

Until the Dark Lord's fall. Bellatrix and Rudolphus took it upon themselves to punish those who could possibly have led to his downfall. The Longbottoms, with a new son themselves, just about the same age as Lyra…As the Ministry hauled Bellatrix and Rudolphus away, Bellatrix could only think of her daughter. The night Bellatrix was to be taken to Azkaban, she pleaded with her sister to take her daughter, and to keep her safe. Narcissa oblidged…until Lucius put his foot down.

Lucius was supposed to be on the right side now. He couldn't raise his niece, when for the past few months he had been claiming he was wrong…there had been error in his ways…And so, Lucius sent his niece away, somewhere no one would find her and find out who she truly was. Little knew of Bella's secret, and even fewer new of Lyra's existence. If her secret was discovered, Bella would have to face her worst fears, her inner demons.

But the moment she escaped Azkaban, Narcissa put her greatest effort into tracking down her niece. It wasn't easy, however. She had been found living up north, attending another wizarding school which name Narcissa wasn't exactly sure of. Bellatrix knew nothing of her daughter's disappearance from the Malfoy household so many years ago. But as Bella escaped from Azkaban, her first thoughts her on her master's return, not on the safety of her daughter.

As Lucius Malfoy was carted off to Azkaban himself, Narcissa brought her niece _home_, under the guise that "Lyra's mother was Lucius's cousin, and the Malfoys were her only family". Lyra would now be taking the name of Lyra Malfoy, something Lyra quickly obliged too. Sixteen years of having no surname, no sense of family, no sense of self-worth, and Lyra was now getting everything she wanted with the family she never knew she had. They had more money than Lyra had ever known. Years of second hand books and robes had plagued her memories with embarrassing moments between herself and her classmates. Instead of spending the harsh winter in front of a nice fire with family for Christmastime, Lyra spent it trying to keep herself warm at school. Going home for summer term meant returning to nowhere.

But things were different now. Lyra would be going to Hogwarts, completely unaware of what would greet her there.


	2. A Long Waited Arrival

Chapter 1: A Long Awaited Arrival 

For as long as Lyra could remember, she had always thought of her mother as being one of those fearless, powerful witches who was on top-secret missions saving the wizarding world from anything and everything. That's why, she deduced, she was forced to live her life without her. Lyra had given up hope of seeing her mother when she was eleven, when she first started school. Not regular school, but school for witches and wizards. Lyra was a bit shocked when she received the news, but was not surprised. Since Lyra was little, she could make all sorts of odd things happen.

When Lyra was ten, she endured the most pain imaginable. It was an awkward stage for her. She went to school wearing hand-me-down clothes and things given to her by charity. All the girls at school made fun of her for her looks. On one particular day, Lyra was feeling particularly mean. After being called all sorts of awful names, the group of girls who teased her suddenly found themselves without hair. Lyra was immediately questioned by the people in charge, and in a fit of tears, cried she never did anything wrong.

Today was going to be different for Lyra. She was going to Hogwarts, a place she had heard so much about. Her long-lost cousin Malfoy filled her in on all the right things, who to associate with, which teachers were worth getting on the right side of- "Professor Snape, he's one of the best at Hogwarts. He'll teach you and tell you everything there is to know," Draco told her. Promising herself to become acquainted with Severus Snape, Lyra got on the Hogwarts Express with Draco, full of fear and anticipation.

Draco led her to a compartment near the front of the train, which was already full of Draco's friends. "These are my friends, Lyra. I think you'll find them quite…enjoyable," Draco said, smirking. His smirking was _really_ getting on Lyra's nerves. And so she was introduced to Crabbe and Goyle, who appeared to be Draco's best friends. Lyra was then introduced to Theodore Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Pansy Parkinson, but Lyra couldn't exactly make out what Pansy was to Draco. The ride to Hogwarts was completely uneventful, Lyra spent it listening quietly to Draco's stories.

"Is that git Potter coming back?" Draco asked, peering out his compartment window.

_Potter, Potter_. Where had Lyra heard that name before? _Potter. H- something. Harold? Henry? Harry. Yes, that was it. Harry Potter. _She heard Narcissa and Draco discussing him quietly over the summer, and from what Lyra could deduce, he was responsible for putting Lucius in Azkaban. Lyra didn't like him already, he seemed like a troublemaker, a bad guy. She was going to steer clear of him.

As the train rolled into Hogsmeade Station, Lyra could feel her heart thumping inside her chest. No, it was in her throat now. As long as Lyra could remember, she had never felt this nervous before in her life. When she stepped off the train onto the hard wooden planks, Lyra searched for Malfoy. He was nowhere in sight. Lyra felt herself being pushed around by the throngs of students who had gotten off the train after her. She searched frantically with no avail.

"Are you lost?" came a voice behind her. Lyra turned around to see a tall boy with flaming red hair and freckles. Next to him was another boy who was a bit shorter than he was, with dark hair and glasses.

"I'm just…looking for someone," Lyra replied nervously, twirling her dark hair in her hands.

"Who are you looking for?" the dark-haired boy asked, eyeing Lyra.

"Draco, he's supposed to be showing me where to go, but I don't know where he went," Lyra replied. She hoped these boys knew Draco. They obviously must have, because the red-haired boy sniggered when she said Draco.

"You're friends with that stupid-"

"-Watch your mouth, Weasel," came Draco's reply. He walked up to the three very casually. He put his hand on Lyra's shoulder.

"These aren't people you want to associate with, Lyra. Like I told you on the train. Come on, let's go," Draco said, shooting evil glances at the two boys. He led her over to horseless carriages, and they began their ascent up to Hogwarts.

"Who were those people, Draco?" Lyra asked.

"Nobody important. Don't associate with them, if you know what's good for you. I don't think Mother would be very taken to the idea of _you_ hanging out with _them_," Draco said with a menacing glance.

"Don't threaten me, Draco. I don't like it and you're bad at it," Lyra replied. She crossed her arms and sat back in her seat. She didn't like this ride up to the castle, it was bumpy and harsh, and Lyra was sure she was going to get sick. But within minutes, the carriage stopped, and Draco helped Lyra down from the high riding carriage. The two made their way into the Great Hall, which was lit by hundreds of candles fifteen feet from the ground.

"Here, sit here. Mother's already made arrangements with the Headmaster. You'll be in Slytherin, which I'm sure will make Professor Snape happy," Draco said, pointing to a seat. The table was at one end of the hall, and Lyra's seat was the one closest to the High Table. Scanning her surrounds, Lyra decided this was much better than her old school.

"Shut up, Goyle, the Sorting's about to begin," Lyra heard Draco say.

"The what?" Lyra asked.

Draco pointed to the doors, and a stern looking witch wearing wire-rimmed glasses and emerald robes emerged, a trail of scared looking 11 year olds following behind her. This witch, which Draco told Lyra was Professor McGonagall, the Transfiguration teacher, placed an old stool on the ground, and placed an old hat upon it.

_What in the world is this?_ Lyra thought, watching as these 1st years put the Hat on their head, which then sorted them into their respective houses. _An odd sort of tradition. I've never seen anything like this_. After the line had thinned, and "Zeniph, Canis" was sorted into Slytherin, food of all sorts suddenly appeared on the tables. The food at the Malfoy Manor was exquisite, they employed some of the best house elves in all of Great Britain, but this…this was truly magical.

Lyra scanned the High Table, taking note of the staff. Sitting on the right, next to the wizard with a long, flowing white beard and half moon spectacles was the Sorting witch, Professor McGonagall. On the left of this wizard, was someone Lyra had sworn she had seen before. She stared at him for a long time, and after a while, Lyra noticed _he_ was making eye contact too.

At this point in time, Severus Snape could not believe what he was looking at. Sitting at the Slytherin table, _his_ table. It couldn't be her, could it? A spitting image of someone he had no wish to see again. No, his mind must be playing tricks on him. Narcissa Malfoy had contacted him about the daughter of Lucius's cousin coming to Hogwarts, and the Headmaster had informed him of this new sixth year, but it could not be…_her_.

After the Welcoming Feast, instead of taking Lyra to the Common Room, he took her straight to the High Table. As the teachers were eager to sleep before the upcoming start of classes, Draco stopped Professor Snape.

"Professor, there's someone I want to introduce you to," Draco said. He pushed Lyra in front of him, so she was standing in front of the man who had stared at her during dinner. "This is Lyra Malfoy. Lyra, this is Professor Snape, the one I told you about on the train."

Lyra felt his dark, cold stare on her as she slowly extended her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Professor Snape. Draco's told me so much about you," she said quietly.

"I'm sure he has," Professor Snape replied, grasping Lyra's hand tightly. His voice was like his glare, cold and icy.

"Come on, Lyra. I'll show you to the Common Room. I'll see you tomorrow in class, Professor," Draco said, and turned to follow the stragglers into the Slytherin Common Room.

And as Lyra went to bed that night, she couldn't stop thinking about the Potions Master who watched her carefully throughout dinner.

Hope you liked this installment. Don't forget to review!


	3. Mudbloods and Questions

**Chapter 2**: **Mudbloods and Questions**

The shock of being at Hogwarts for the first time had worn off, and by now roaming the castle had become old news to Lyra. She had all her classes with her cousin, but as time wore on she began making her own friends, too. Lyra was naturally a studious person, and spent a good amount of her free time in the library. And there was only one other person who spent as much time in the library as Lyra did.

"Excuse me, could I ask you a question?" Lyra approached the girl who she'd seen in the library so many times before. She seemed nice enough, Lyra had seen her around, and maybe even one or two of her classes. The girl looked quizzically at Lyra, but Lyra went on with her question. "I need help with Professor Snape's essay on the Magical Properties of Dragon's Tounge and it's Ten Uses in Potions Making. He mentioned something about a book-"

The girl heaved a very heavy and old looking book into Lyra's hands. "It isn't any use, I can't make out _anything_ the book says," she sighed.

Lyra gave her an apologetic smile. "Sit down, I can help you with it, if you'd like," the girl offered. "I'm Hermione Granger by the way. Who are you?"

"Lyra Malfoy."

"Are you-?"

"Draco's something like my second cousin. My mum was his dad's cousin. But she's passed on now, and the Malfoys are all I have left," Lyra explained.

Hiding her suspicions and tongue, Lyra and Hermione worked for hours, until Lyra's essay was successfully completed. Exhausted, yet proud of herself, Lyra thanked Hermione.

"I've never been one at Potions. Defense Against the Dark Arts is what I'm _really_ good at," Lyra said, pushing in her chair. "The curriculum here is so much less than it was at my old school. Which is great, really, I was beginning to get worn out…"

"LYRA!" came a loud voice behind her. "What are you doing?" It was Draco, in all his protectiveness.

"Finishing up my Potions essay, why does it matter to _you_?" Lyra sneered, noting Draco's sudden change in demeanor. She'd never seen him this disgusted, unless he was talking about Harry Potter.

"Associating with _mudbloods_? After all my family's done for you?" Draco asked.

Lyra rolled her eyes. "I can associate with whomever I want to, Draco. Hermione was so kindly helping me on my Potions essay, which you know is one of my worst subjects."

"You're a Pureblood, Lyra. Start acting like one," Draco sneered, eyeing Hermione, who looked as if she was about to burst into tears.

"And how exactly are Purebloods supposed to act, _Draco_? Not like you, I hope?" Lyra asked. Draco stood up unnecessarily straighter as he pulled out his wand. Lyra eyed his wand, though not in a nervous sort of way. She smirked just like her long-lost cousin, and pulled out her own.

"Don't _tempt_ me, Draco. I know how you duel, you're no good at it. Lower your wand," Lyra said menacingly. Lyra took a few steps towards Draco, who didn't back down.

"Oh Lyra, put away your wand, you're going to get in trouble!" Hermione pleaded. She held her books tightly to her chest.

"Don't worry, Hermione. I've got it all covered. You should probably get going back to Gryffindor Tower. I don't want you in trouble, it's getting late," Lyra observed. Hermione nodded, and quickly walked up the corridor. Her footsteps echoed in the marble stone walls.

"How _dare_ you point your wand at me, Lyra. You should know better I'm not one to cross. If my father hears of this, do you know what he'll do to you?" Draco threatened.

_Lucius Malfoy wouldn't do a thing to me_, Lyra mused. _He'd probably do something to you, since _you're _the one letting me associate with Mudbloods_. Draco lowered his wand as footsteps became louder and louder.

"Draco! Lyra! What are you doing?" Lyra turned around to see Professor Snape in all his black cape glory billowing towards the two. "Why are your wands drawn?"

Even Lyra couldn't lie herself out of this one. She tried explaining, but all that came out was a bunch of garbled words.

"Please don't tell me you've had a Babbling Beverage," Snape said harshly.

"Er- no, Professor," Lyra finally managed to say.

"Both of you to my office. Now."

Knowing better than to defy him, Lyra and Draco made their way to his office. It was filled with glass jars with oddities even the darkest of wizards wouldn't want to know about. Old potions books with fading scripts littered dusty shelves in front of his desk. Snape pointed at the two old, rickety chairs in front of his desk, and Draco and Lyra sat in them.

"Now," Professor Snape said calmly, even though inside he was boiling in anger, "care to explain _why_ your wands were drawn? Do not sugar coat it, Draco."

"I was simply showing her how _purebloods_ act, Professor," Draco said, casting a menacing look in Lyra's direction. Rolling her eyes, she sat back in her seat.

"Like pompous fools? That type of behavior gets you in trouble with the wrong sort, Draco, and _you know_ who I mean," Professor Snape replied. As much as Lyra wanted to question him, she felt it was best to keep quiet.

Lyra noticed there was something in the way Professor Snape held himself whenever she was around. She felt as if he was holding back something that should have been out in the open since she first met him. The way his eyes somehow managed to follow her everywhere, looking for some sign of _something_…Lyra had to figure out what that something was.

"Do not let me catch you in that position, Draco, do you understand me?" Professor Snape said.

"Of course, sir," Draco said. Lyra could tell he was annoyed at Professor Snape in the tone of his voice. Obviously Professor Snape sensed this too.

"Watch your tone, Draco."

The silence in the room was deafening. Lyra really wanted to figure out why Professor Snape acted like the way he did around her- guarded and watchful.

"May we go now, sir?" Lyra asked finally, not daring to look the Potions Master in the eye.

"Yes. But be warned- I am watching you."

Lyra and Draco nodded, and headed back to the Slytherin Common Room, which wasn't far away. Lyra spent the rest of the night, nestled up in her four poster bed, struggling to understand Severus Snape. But Lyra didn't have to be a mind-reader to realize she was fighting a loosing battle. But over the summer, Draco was always bragging about how Professor Snape let him get away with everything. But tonight, he seemed as if he was talking to two…_Gryffindors_ when he approached Draco and Lyra in the hallway. Professor Snape _hated_ Gryffindors, and that was an understatement. It was too late to question his motives…no…Lyra would do that in the morning…she had Potions right off the bat.

_Yes…yes that's exactly what I'll do_, Lyra thought. _I'll question Professor Snape on his motives, right after he bites my head off and questions _me. With that, Lyra rolled over and went to sleep.

(Thanks to everyone who has reviewed! Someone commented about Lyra not being in Gryffindor. If you keep reading, you'll find out in some later chapters)


	4. Eavesdropping

**Chapter 3: Eavesdropping**

Lyra never had a chance to question Professor Snape on his motives. Maybe it was her lack of preparation during Potions that kept her working until the bell, or perhaps she didn't really want to question him. Professor Snape, she had learned, was not someone to be toyed with, no matter what house a person was in. But being in Slytherin had proved to be useful for Lyra. Anything she could have ever wanted- or needed- was at her fingertips, thanks to Professor Snape.

Something about him made him oddly comforting, at least to Lyra, but she would never admit that out loud. Maybe he was the father-figure she never had. Maybe they had a lot in common…she was the dark, silent type too…Whatever it was, Lyra quickly forgot it one morning at breakfast.

"Have you read the papers yet, Lyra?" Draco smirked from across the breakfast table. "I never read the _Daily Prophet_, Draco. You should know that. I don't like puking before breakfast…" Lyra absently buttered some toast. He rolled his eyes, and threw the _Daily Prophet _over her plate. Jumping back as bits of egg flew on her robes, Lyra grabbed the prophet to see what Draco's gloating was all about.

"_Lucius Malfoy released from Azkaban, full pardon made_…" Lyra read. She smiled. "Congratulations, Draco. I'm sure you and your mother are elated." She handed Draco back the newspaper and picked her breakfast off her robes.

"I found out last night, got an owl from Mother, you know," Draco bragged. "But I wanted to keep the secret until this morning."

Lyra rolled her eyes. He couldn't help but show off. Lyra knew he was excited about his father's release and full pardon. _How_ Lucius got a full pardon was beyond Lyra, but she was excited nonetheless. She knew how much Lucius meant to Draco, he was forever talking about his father. By the way Narcissa Malfoy talked, Lyra could also tell Lucius was smitten with his only child. Draco was spoiled, that was obvious. But it seemed Lucius wanted to take Draco under his wing and teach him everything there was to know.

If Draco did something wrong, however, Lucius was quick to point it out and scold his son. Mistakes could not be tolerated. Even so, Lucius was proud of the way his son was brought up. A tough, strong background, a solid, pure blood line, excellent schooling, and a strong will.

A few weeks after Lucius's release from Azkaban, Draco received another positive letter from home.

"My father's coming to the Quidditch game this Saturday," Draco loudly announced in the Slytherin Common Room. Rolling into a green velvet armchair near the fire, Lyra could hear every word Draco was saying. "I knew there was a reason I got a new broom. Even Potter doesn't have a Firebolt X1000."

"A Firebolt X1000? Even some international Quidditch teams don't have it!" shrieked Pansy excitedly. Lyra rolled her eyes. Pansy couldn't care less about Quidditch, let alone what brooms were ridden by international teams.

"Don't touch it, Fitch, I've just polished it," Draco said to a 3rd year. Lyra heard the smack of flesh being hit, and someone whimper in pain. Draco must have slapped Fitch's arm. Lyra got up out of the comforts of the chair and headed to the small group that was gathered around Draco.

"Draco, that's enough. Put that damn broom away," Lyra said.

"Oh? And what are you going to do if I don't?" Draco taunted, laughing. He turned around to his fan club, which included many 1st and 2nd year girls. Draco began spouting off facts about the Firebolt X1000 as girls giggled in the background. Lyra pulled out her wand.

"Draco, put your damn broom away," Lyra said, struggling to keep her voice calm.

Draco turned around again. "What are you going to do, Lyra? Curse me?" Draco laughed.

"When I'm through with you you're going to wish that's what I've done," Lyra threatened, taking a step closer. Draco didn't seem to falter.

"Quit faking, Lyra. Go study with your mudblood friends. In fact, why don't you go be a Gryffindor?"

Lyra laughed. "I wouldn't be a Gryffindor if my life depended on it. I couldn't _stand_ spending my time with my head that overly inflated."

The group standing around Draco laughed, loudly. Draco scowled.

"Then go hang out with your mudblood friends."

"She's helped me study a few times, Draco. _You're_ jealous because she's done better than you in just about everything," Lyra retorted.

Draco mocked a laugh. "Me? Jealous? _Of her_? You can't be serious, Lyra. Why would I be jealous of a mudblood? Her parents are muggles. The Malfoys are one of the last remaining pureblood families."

"Thank you for the lesson, Draco, but it is unnecessary," Lyra replied harshly. She didn't lower her wand.

"Get your wand out of my face, Lyra."

"Put away your damn broom, Draco. Stop gloating, you look like a fool."

A ripple went across the Slytherin Common Room as Draco Malfoy set his broom on a chair. He dug into his robes and pulled out his wand and turned to face Lyra.

"Care to say that again, Lyra? My father's out of Azkaban, you know. You wouldn't want to make a bad impression the first time you meet him…he doesn't know you're staying with us, you know," Draco said, smirking.

"Quit holding the threat of your father over your enemy's head, Draco. You're not going to be a little boy forever. Be your own man, not your father's little boy," retorted Lyra. The look on Draco's face was priceless after this remark. He held his wand a little higher, and poised his body for attack.

"Going to curse me in the middle of the common room, Draco?" Lyra asked, crouching just a bit. "Go ahead, Draco. Let's see what you're made of."

Draco paused a moment, wondering if he really wanted to duel in front of all these people. He might get in trouble by Professor Dumbledore, that was true, but Professor Snape would not do anything to him. Or at least Draco hoped. Draco lowered his wand, not wanting to get into any trouble. Lyra stood up straighter, but did lower her wand.

"My new broom is in here. I don't want it getting ruined over one of your misaimed spells," Draco said, grabbing his Firebolt. He retreated to his dormitory, and didn't come out the rest of the night.

_Misaimed spells_, thought Lyra. _I'll show him misaimed spells_. Seething in anger, Lyra fell asleep in the Common Room, to full of hatred to move up to her dormitory.

That Saturday proved to be an interesting one, to say the least. It was the Slytherin vs Gryffindor Quidditch game, one that each team looked forward too each year. Malfoy had finally quit bragging about his new broom, and switched energies to bragging about how bad he was going to beat Potter. Finding her time wasted, Lyra finally stopped promising to hex Draco if he talked about Quidditch one more time.

Even the teachers were feeling the heat of this year's game. Professor Snape managed to put four Gryffindors in detention after they failed to get out their books when asked to. Professor McGonagall stopped giving out homework, pleading her Gryffindors to win this match. It wasn't hard to tell which teachers favored which house. Professor Flitwick kept giving Gryffindor ten and twenty points after Hermione, Ron, or Harry answered a simple question. Lyra got a twenty point deduction when the iguana she was supposed to be putting to sleep accidentally burst into flames.

"Are you feeling okay, Draco? Can I get you anything?" Pansy asked. She was by Draco's side constantly, but Draco didn't mind the attention.

"I'm fine, Pansy. Go cheer for me in the stands, alright? Start up "Weasley is Our King", too," Draco said. Pansy shrieked in delight, and made her way out into the stands.

"Good luck, Draco, not that you'll need it or anything," Lyra said. Draco nodded, and Lyra found a spot between Pansy and Blaise. Lyra scanned the stands, looking for Lucius Malfoy. And she found him, in all his glory, sitting pompously next to Professor Snape. His hair was still long and blonde, the manner on his face was still smug. But his face…it looked thinner and gaunt from his time in Azkaban. Lyra heard Azkaban did that to a person. It changed their physical appearances…but their emotions too.

Somehow, Lyra thought, Lucius Malfoy was the type of person who couldn't be changed by Azkaban. He was too full of himself to let his demeanor change.

Soon the game started, and Lyra found her thoughts engrossed in Quidditch. She thought the game was overdone, but Lyra enjoyed the game when it came time to watch it. The three Chasers were doing an excellent job, but then again, the tall red-heard Lyra first met when she walked off the train, the Weasel, was doing an awful job Keeping. He would get more and more flustered the more goals he let in. Even with the encouragement of his team, the Weasel- Lyra still didn't know his real name- kept letting in more and more goals. The Slytherin Keeper, some 7th year Lyra thought was annoyingly cute, had only let in three goals so far.

The score was seventy-thirty, Slytherin, when Potter caught the Snitch. However, in catching it, he managed to knock the cute Keeper, Yaley, off his broom. He landed with a sickening thud on the ground. The Slytherin crowd booed at Potter, Lyra being one of the many expressing her anger and frustration. Lyra saw the angry look on Draco's face as he stormed into the changing rooms. The game was over, Slytherin had lost again…

Draco would be angry, no doubt. So Lyra decided to wait outside the changing rooms for him. Even though the two argued and constantly threatened to hex each other, Lyra liked Draco's company. He was the closest thing she had to family, and Lyra knew Draco felt the same. He would need some cheering up, and if she got to him before Pansy, the two might cease the hexing for a week or two. Sighing, Lyra sat against the cold stone wall of the changing room. _What on earth is Draco doing?_ Lyra thought. It didn't take a year to shower and change.

"How was I supposed to know my wife would drag Lyra back into our lives?"

Lyra's ears perked up at the sound of her name. The voice came from the end of the hallway. Lyra slowly crept nearer, but not so close she was to be seen.

The next voice who spoke she recognized to be Professor Snape's. "Lucius, have you seen her? The first time I saw her, I thought I was seeing her mother again. She looks _exactly_ like her mother, Lyra." Lyra noted a hint of anger in his voice.

"I sent her away the moment she begged Narcissa to take her. Once she was safely in Azkaban…"

Lyra's head was spinning. She looked like her mother? Lyra didn't even know her mother's name, let alone what she looked like.

"Well, even Azkaban couldn't keep her from inheriting her mother's looks. Or her ability to…_curse_…other people." Professor Snape seemed amused.

"Does she have any idea, Severus?" asked Lucius. The tone of his voice made him seem concerned.

"Are you kidding me? She's completely clueless. Thought I don't understand why, she's a very bright student. All the resources are under her nose," Professor Snape mused. "She's exactly like her mother, Lucius. I've seen her duel…I wouldn't be surprised if she used the Cruciatus Curse. Her mother seems to favor that one…"

"Yes, well," Lucius snapped quickly, "it's what put her in Azkaban the first time. Stupid girl, you'd think she had more sense than _that_."

"Do you think her father knows?" Professor Snape asked.

"He's gone mad, Severus. He hasn't seen the light of day since he was carted off to Azkaban for the unfortunate torturing of…never mind. He wouldn't even know his own wife. The Dark Lord has seemed rather pleased with her of late, though. Why, I'll never know…"

"You don't think, Lucius. Maybe perhaps…? There were rumors of it last time," Professor Snape prompted.

"That is the Dark Lord's business, Severus. You should know that."

"Absolutely, Lucius. I apologize for bringing it up."

There was a silence between the two men. Lyra wished they would be more specific during their conversation. Maybe then she could find out more about herself.

"Keep an eye on her, Severus. I want to know if anything…_unusual_ happens. And you know what I mean."

"Absolutely Lucius. Keep in touch."

Lyra heard the clicking of heels touching the floor. Lyra scrambled to get back to her place in front of the Slytherin Changing Rooms. Draco came out just as she fell back in front of the door. His hair was drenched, and he was wearing the same look of utter disgust.

"Did you try and drown yourself, Draco? I was beginning to get worried," Lyra said, concerned.

"Go bother someone else, Lyra," Draco replied, and left her standing in the middle of the corridor.

"Ignore him, he's mad at himself. He'll get over it, though," came a voice behind Lyra. She turned around to see the heavily bandaged Yaley limping towards her. Lyra felt her heart skip a beat. Her insides her churning, she felt her knees start to go weak.

_Never let your enemy find your weakness_, Lyra was told once. Weakness is the quickest way to death.

Lyra somehow managed a faint smile. "You played really well, Evan. Well…until Potter…" Lyra made a vague motion to his bandages. He smiled.

"Potter's an idiot. He can't even brake. I don't know how he could have managed playing Quidditch this long," Evan replied, brushing a strand of his dirt blond hair out of his deep blue eyes. Lyra became entranced in them…she wanted to stare at them forever…

Evan was staring at her too…and suddenly Lyra found herself being pushed up against the wall. Evan's face came nearer to hers…he was so close now, she could make out the faint freckles on his nose…his lips were closing in…Lyra felt their lips come into contact. She closed her eyes tight, but even then she could still see stars.

"MALFOY! YALEY! What are you doing?" Lyra jumped back to reality as Evan backed off. Professor Snape was walking towards them, his black heap of robes billowing behind him. _Lucius must have left already_, Lyra thought. _Damn him_.

"I was…escorting him back to the Common Room, Professor. Potter has struck once again," she replied.

"Well, keep escorting him, then." Lyra nodded. She was still seeing stars from Evan's kiss. They began to walk down the long, dark hallway. Much more slowly than Lyra wanted too, because Evan had sprained his ankle in the process of falling forty feet.

"Miss Malfoy?" _This was it, _Lyra thought. He was going to tell her to stop and let Yaley find his own way back. Professor Snape was going to explain everything. Who she was, who her parents were, and why Lucius Malfoy sent her away. Lyra was going to learn the things she so desired to learn since she was four. Professor Snape was going to be her savior.

"The Common Room is the other way." Blushing furiously, Evan and Lyra turned around and ran to the Common Room., not daring to look Professor Snape in the eye.


	5. The Hospital Wing

**Chapter 4: The Hospital Wing**

The conversation Lyra overhead between Lucius and Professor Snape constantly replayed in her mind. Lucius Malfoy obviously knew who she was. Did he dislike her parents so much that he sent her away when she was too small to understand? Lyra's mind was constantly gripped by questions like these. She spent most of her time pondering them, even letting her schoolwork slip as though it were nothing.

Her teachers began to notice this sudden change in behavior, but refrained from asking too many questions. Lyra apologized profusely, citing a lack of sleep, and promised she would up her grades. But Lyra did not do as she promised, and soon found herself falling asleep in the back of Charms.

"What's up with you, Lyra? Malfoy's aren't supposed to fall asleep in class," Draco pointed out one day.

Lyra rubbed her tired eyes before answering. "I know, I'm sorry. I just have a lot on my mind."

Draco frowned. "Maybe you should go to Madam Pomfrey and get something to help you sleep."

Lyra shook her head. "I'm fine! Don't worry about me, Draco. You never have before." Lyra pushed her way through Draco and Crabbe and walked ahead of them.

For some reason, Lyra's little outburst unnerved Draco. Sure, he and Lyra constantly had little arguments, but something about Lyra was off. She hardly slept anymore, her grades were dropping at a rapid rate, and she was constantly loosing points for Slytherin for various reasons. Draco had never won the House Cup in his years at Hogwarts, and he was working his hardest to take away the reigns from Gryffindor.

Before heading to lunch, Draco took a detour to Professor Snape's office. Maybe he would be able to help Lyra. Though Draco would never admit it, he came to care for this long-lost relative. He enjoyed their combative nature, and Draco always thought of Lyra as the sister he never had. When she wasn't so occupied, Lyra was a real help when it came to schoolwork. She had even more knowledge of the Dark Arts than Draco did, and that was saying a lot.

He found Professor Snape's office door already open. Knocking slightly, he didn't even wait for an answer when he walked in. He found Professor Snape at his desk, grading what looked like fifth year Potions essays.

"Draco, what can I do for you?" Professor Snape asked, setting down his quill. He moved the parchments aside hastily.

"Well, it isn't about me, sir. It's about Lyra," Draco said tentatively. He set his books down on the floor before taking a seat.

Professor Snape frowned. "What's wrong with her?"

"She isn't sleeping, sir. She looks like a zombie. And she hasn't been doing her schoolwork, sir. That combined with her failure to execute even the simplest spells has been costing Slytherin quite a few House points. I don't want to loose to Gryffindor again, sir," Draco said. "So you see my reason for coming to you."

Professor Snape nodded. Maybe Lyra wasn't so much like her mother as he thought. Professor Snape knew Lyra was certainly not Bellatrix Lestrange, but her behavior so far in the year made her certainly seem much like her. Except the Bellatrix Lestrange Professor Snape knew wouldn't let her focus waver from the task at hand. Lyra's task, to Professor Snape, seemed to be doing well at her education. But even Professor Snape was wrong a time or two.

"Very well, Draco. I'll keep an eye on her. You keep up on your schoolwork, I don't want you falling behind, and I'm sure your father doesn't either." Draco nodded.

"Thank you, sir," Draco said, and stood up. He threw his schoolbag over his shoulder, and left Professor Snape's office.

Draco's appearance in his office slightly bothered Professor Snape. Perhaps Lyra had overhead his conversation with Lucius Malfoy several weeks ago. He _had_ caught in her in the corridor snogging with Evan Yaley after the Quidditch match. And Lyra was the type of person to approach someone after hearing a conversation like that…wasn't she? Professor Snape couldn't let Lyra find out her true heritage. It would cause too many headaches for the Dark Lord and for Bellatrix Lestrange. Snape remembered so many years ago when Bellatrix announced she was with child, and how displeased the Dark Lord was. Bellatrix was naturally overjoyed…but for several months she was of no use to the Dark Lord. And even after Lyra was born, Bellatrix wasn't the same, not really.

If Bellatrix found out about Lyra now…Lyra would obviously be scarred for life. Bellatrix would want to reconnect with her daughter, wouldn't she? But that would mean being out of service for the Dark Lord, something Severus knew the Dark Lord would not like. Bellatrix would be tortured, that much he was sure of. Lyra would be punished too, for the Dark Lord was merciless. And if Severus was the one to break the news to Bellatrix, he would be punished too. That would be a great blow to the Order, because the Dark Lord knew nothing of Severus's spying ability.

No, Severus would let Lyra be for now.

That night, Lyra somehow managed to fall asleep. In utter exhaustion, her body forced her eyes to close, but Lyra's sleep was plagued with horrible dreams. Lyra was being taunted by Lucius Malfoy…he had something she wanted, something she needed. He laughed, except it wasn't a normal laugh. It was high pitched and made Lyra's body tingle. And then Lucius turned into someone Lyra didn't want to see.

She couldn't see his face, but she knew who he was. His eyes pierced her body, like a sword piercing the hardest of armor. He taunted Lyra, made fun of her, and called her worthless. Lyra was defenseless, she could do nothing but let tears of fear fall down her face.

"_You've disgraced me Lyra," the voice said. "Everything I've done for you and you repay me like this? No wonder your mother didn't want you. You shame the wizarding world."_

_"No!" Lyra cried, shaking in fear. "You're lying! My mother did want me! She did!"_

_"Then where is she now? Why isn't she here with her precious baby girl? That's what I thought, Lyra. You are worthless!"_

_"NO!" Lyra cried. "NO! QUIT LYING TO ME!"_

_The man laughed. "You think I would lie to you? How dare you accuse me of that, Lyra! CRUCIO!"_

"Lyra? Lyra? Wake up!"

Lyra awoke with a start to find Pansy Parkinson huddling over her bed. Lyra rubbed her eyes, trying to remember what happened. _Oh yeah, the dream…_

"You were shaking. What happened?" Pansy asked.

Lyra shook her head. "Just a nightmare. I've been getting those more and more now."

"You were thrashing everywhere. I thought you were going to fall out of your bed," Pansy said. "Maybe you'd better see Madam Pomfrey."

"Madam Pomfrey…right. Yes, I'll go see her," Lyra said absently. She grabbed her robes and draped them over her shoulders. She slowly got out of bed, and left the dungeons. She walked along the corridors of the school, thinking of her dream.

Why had did he have to come back to haunt her? He was dead now, murdered. Not that he didn't deserve it, because he did. He was a coward, he deserved everything that he got. But he was gone, there was no more use for fear now, was there?

Lyra sighed, and pulled herself up to a deep windowsill. She sat, with her back against the wall, and looked out onto the school grounds. The moonlight bounced off the lake in such a way Lyra thought she was looking at a beautiful painting. Lyra liked the peacefulness of the school at night. When everything was quiet, after everyone had gone to bed.

"Out of bed, Miss Malfoy?"

Lyra turned her head quickly to see Professor Snape standing a few feet away from the windowsill. The expression on his face made Lyra think he wasn't too happy.

"I couldn't sleep, Professor," Lyra replied.

"You are not permitted outside the dormitories after eleven-thirty, Miss Malfoy. Or perhaps you failed to listen, something you have been doing frequently, I might add."

"I'm sorry, sir. I've had a lot on my mind lately," Lyra said.

"Come with me, Miss Malfoy. My office is only a short distance away," Professor Snape said. Lyra nodded, and followed him down the darkened hallway into his office. She took a seat, and suddenly became aware of the fatigue roaming throughout her body.

"Your behavior as of late is disturbing, Miss Malfoy. I cannot speak for your other classes, but your Potions skills are certainly lacking," Professor Snape said. Lyra rubbed her eyes.

"I know, sir, I know!" Lyra cried. "I'm trying, but I can't…there's nothing I can do…"

Professor Snape suddenly became concerned. He was sure Lyra overheard his conversation with Lucius, he was absolutely positive. It would explain her behavior and lack of regard for everything. Had their conversation forced this poor girl to exhaustion? Had it really been eating away at her?

"Perhaps we should see Madam Pomfrey. You look as though you could use some Dreamless Sleeping Potion," Professor Snape offered, rising out his chair.

"No! I'm fine!" Lyra snapped. "I need answers, Professor. Now."

He knew this was coming, but what could he tell her? Her mother was a Death Eater, she'd rather go to Azkaban than raise you? No, Lyra was not in any condition to hear that right now.

"Now is not the time, Lyra," he said quietly. "Come, we must visit Madam Pomfrey."

"Don't order me around," Lyra said. Professor Snape really hoped this was the exhaustion talking, he hated taking away points from his own house.

"Miss Malfoy, you're in no state to name your demands. We can discuss anything you want after we visit the hospital wing," he said, taking ahold of her arm. Lyra ripped it away from his grip, and pulled out her wand.

"Don't touch me," she growled. Professor Snape retrieved his own wand from his pocket.

"Lyra, hand me your wand," he warned. He extended his arm for her, hoping she would somehow comply with his rules. "That was not a request."

"I won't. I won't let you be like him!" Lyra cried.

"Who are you talking about, Miss Malfoy?"

But before Lyra could answer, she fell to the ground in a fit of darkness.

Voices. That's all Lyra could make out. There were two, no, three. Yes, three voices. And they were talking about her. Lyra stirred in her warm, cozy bed. Where was she? She certainly wasn't in the dungeons, there was too much light in here for her to be there. Lyra's eyes came into focus, and all she saw was white.

"Miss Malfoy, I'm so glad you're awake," came a voice. She turned to see Madam Pomfrey scurrying over to her carrying a tray. "Here, take this." Madam Pomfrey took a bottle and poured it into a glass. She shoved it into Lyra's hands, and Lyra obediently drank it.

"Miss Malfoy, glad you could join us again," came Professor Snape's voice. He was sitting to Lyra's right, and he looked as if he had been up for a very long time. Dark circles were under his eyes.

"What happened?" Lyra managed to say. She lay back in her bed, her body to weak to sit up an longer.

"You don't remember?" Professor Snape asked. Lyra shook her head. "You fainted in my office and you haven't woken up since."

"How long was I asleep?" Lyra asked. She figured it had happened last night, judging my the amount of light it was around one or two in the afternoon.

"Three days." Professor Snape sounded amused.

Lyra shot up in bed. "THREE DAYS? You let me sleep for three days? Do you realize how much work I have to do?" Lyra began to get out of bed but Madam Pomfrey promptly shoved her back down.

"You will not be going anywhere for a while, Miss Malfoy. Your undernourished and exhausted. Your body needs time to heal," Madam Pomfrey said.

Lyra suddenly became aware she had a pouding headache. Groaning, she rubbed her temples. _They let me sleep for three days! _Lyra thought to herself.

"I've arranged for Mr. Malfoy to bring you your books and homework. I daresay you'll be incapacitated for a while, so I suggest you use your time wisely and catch up on your work," Professor Snape said. The tone in his voice said the topic was a demand, not an option.

"I'll leave you to tend her, Poppy. I have a class soon," Professor Snape said. He turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

"Drink this, I'll be back in a while," Madam Pomfrey said, and shoved another glass in Lyra's hands. Lyra drank it and put it back on the tray.

"You were certainly out for a while," a voice said. She turned to her left to see Neville Longbottom, his face bruised and bloodied.

"Neville…what are you doing here?" Lyra asked.

"I got in a fight," he said proudly.

"With _who_?"

"Those two idiots, Crabbe and Goyle," he said.

Lyra laughed. "You got in a fight with them? Why?"

Neville hesitated. He wasn't sure if he wanted to explain their flippant remarks about St. Mungo's. Lyra was a Malfoy…but she was different than Draco.

"They said something about my Gran," Neville lied. Yes, that sounded believable.

"Oh? And are you close with your Gran?" Lyra asked. Neville nodded.

"Well, at least you have one, at any rate," Lyra sighed.

"What do you mean?" Neville asked.

"I don't even _know_ if I have grandparents. I've never met my mum or dad. I lived in an orphanage until I was eleven, and even then I had to go back during summer term," Lyra explained. She wasn't very comfortable giving out this information to him. But Neville seemed like a nice enough person, he had always been so helpful during Herbology class. He was extremely knowledgeable in the subject, and Lyra liked questioning him over some of the more dangerous plants they studied.

"Well I've never met my mum or dad either. Well, not really…" Neville's face fell.

"What do you mean, not really?" Lyra questioned.

Neville stopped as if he had suddenly said too much. He shook his head, and suddenly became aware he was in a hospital bed.

"Don't worry, you don't have to tell me, Neville. It's alright," Lyra said quietly.

"It isn't that," Neville said. "It's just…"

"Just what?"

Neville took a deep breath. "My parents…they were Aurors. Pretty good ones too. Well they made loads of enemies when You-Know-Who came into power. And after he was defeated, they were tortured by some of You-Know-Who's followers."

Lyra wasn't sure quite what to say, this was not what she was expecting to hear. "I'm sorry to hear that, Neville. But you should be proud of them. I know if they were my parents, I would be."

Neville swelled with pride. "I am proud of them. They weren't tortured by the Cruciatus Curse for nothing. They helped put loads of people in Azkaban."

Lyra's brain suddenly went into overdrive. She remembered Lucius Malfoy's conversation with Professor Snape. He said something about her mother being put into Azkaban for using the Cruciatus Curse. Could there be a connection?

"Say, Neville, I don't want to be too personal or anything…but who did you say tortured your parents?"

Neville seemed slightly taken aback by this question. "I didn't. Why?" He suddenly seemed suspicious.

"I was just wondering. No reason," Lyra replied casually.

"Oh, well, it was the Lestranges, I'm pretty sure. Yeah, yeah I think so. Bellatrix and Rudolphus Lestrange."

And standing in the doorway, with a horrified expression on his face, was Professor Snape.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

And now time to answer some questions...

Bella and Lyra WILL meet in later chapters, but it won't be how you'll expect. Lyra reveals some things you would have never thought of.

And yes, Bella is out of Azkaban. And why she hasn't come to find her daughter will be answered soon.


	6. Surprises at Hogsmeade

**Chapter 5: Surprises at Hogsmeade**

Professor Snape looked horrified as he walked into the hospital wing. Neville Longbottom had just practically _told_ Lyra who her parents were. And being the incompetent Gryffindor he was, he probably didn't even realize it. Without any warning, Professor Snape closed the curtains around Lyra's bed.

"Why'd you do that for? I was talking to Neville," Lyra said.

"Talking to him will for even the smallest amount of time will lower you I.Q. substantially," Professor Snape replied. Lyra scowled. She wanted to question Neville on the Lestrange's even further to see what else he knew of them.

"I thought you had a class, Professor," Lyra pointed out. Professor Snape lowered a stack of books and parchment on Lyra's bedside table.

"Mr. Malfoy had Quidditch practice, so I came to bring you these," he said. "I would suggest starting your Potions right away, there is a particularly nasty essay you might want to get your hands on."

"Absolutely, Professor. I'll get on it right away," Lyra said, searching for her book.

"I want you to get caught up right away. If I find you've been…_distracted_-" his eyes darted towards Neville's bed- "then you shall find yourself punished."

Lyra nodded, and Professor Snape left the room. Instead of dwelling on the mention of the Lestrange's, Lyra pulled out parchment and began contemplating her Potions essay.

It took another three whole days for Lyra to recover in the hospital wing. However, in three days, she managed to do all the work she missed when she was sleeping and review what she may have missed when she was in her "Zombie mode". Lyra put the mention of the Lestranges in the back of her head. After a talk with Draco, she realized she was hurting her friends as well as herself.

Somewhere along the way Lyra realized maybe she didn't want to know about her parents. She had lived so long without even a mention of them. And when she was eleven and carted off to school…even then, she had hardly heard of them. She had her family at Hogwarts, and that was all Lyra needed.

Lyra hadn't seen or spoken to Neville Longbottom since she left the hospital wing two weeks ago. Maybe he was avoiding her; he _had_ given her an incredibly strange look after he mentioned…_Bellatrix Lestrange_. That had been sitting in the back of Lyra's mind since then.

_No,_ Lyra thought, _I won't put myself through that again. I almost hexed Professor Snape_. _There's no use for than nonsense now_. Smiling to herself, Lyra continued on her day.

"You will find," Professor McGonagall was saying during one particularly difficult Transfiguration lesson, "that Animagus transformation is the most difficult form out there and must be used with extreme caution. There has not been an Animagus in all my years at Hogwarts."

"Yeah, that you knew about," Lyra heard Harry Potter mumble under his breath. Potter and his friend sniggered as McGonagall continued with their lesson, which ended with twelve inches on Animagus as homework.

"Miss Malfoy, a word if you please," Professor McGonagall said at the end of the lesson. Leaving her books sprawled on the table, Lyra moved her way through the throng of students pushing towards the door.

"What can I do for you, Professor?" Lyra asked. Millions of thoughts ran through Lyra's head. Had she turned in all her work? Was she forgetting something important?

"Your work on the transfiguration of animals was excellent, Miss Malfoy. Have you ever done that type of work before?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"No, Professor. It was my first time, but I didn't find it very difficult," Lyra replied.

"Even Miss Granger didn't transfigure her animal until after you did," Professor McGonagall mused. "And you turned your cat into a locket. I'm very interested in that choice, Miss Malfoy."

"Well, to be honest, Professor, I didn't mean to transfigure it into a locket. I was going towards something more useful, like a mirror," Lyra replied. She knew her face was getting redder by the moment.

"Did the locket hold any special value to you, Miss Malfoy?" Professor McGonagall prompted.

"I've never seen it before in my life, Professor," Lyra answered. Why would the transfiguration of a cat that happened two days ago have any relevance to what was going on today?

"I've been teaching this lesson for a very long time, Miss Malfoy. I don't think I've ever come across two transfigurations that came out quite the same. Similar, yes, but never the exact same."

"I don't think I quite know where you're going with this, Professor," Lyra said.

"It could be…never mind, Miss Malfoy. Job well done. I shall see you in class," Professor McGonagall said, and waved Lyra out of her class.

Confused, Lyra left the classroom. So she changed her cat into a locket? How was that such a big deal? Malfoy changed his animal into a traveling cloak. Nothing out of the ordinary, right? Lyra sure hoped so…

"Another Hogsmeade weekened, then?" Malfoy said loudly in the Common Room that night.

Lyra was sitting in the corner reading a book on advanced Dark Magic, which she managed to get thanks to Professor Snape.

"I know who I'm going with, do you?" Malfoy asked Crabbe and Goyle. They shrugged their shoulders and kept that same, bewildered look on their face.

"What are you doing, keeping your nose buried in a book?" a voice behind Lyra quietly said. She nearly jumped a mile.

"Evan! What are you doing? You're lucky I don't have my wand with me, or I would've hexed you half to death," Lyra threatened, putting her book down. She hadn't seen or heard from Evan since the night he first kissed her, but even then it still felt like yesterday.

"Are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?" he asked.

Lyra shrugged. "There's still some work I need to catch up on. I still haven't quite recovered from my three night sleep in the hospital wing."

Evan smiled. "Well, you look better, if it's any consolation." Lyra smiled sheepishly, and looked down at her book. Was he asking her to go to Hogsmeade with him? Lyra sure hoped so, it'd be nice to be around other guys besides Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

And besides, Evan wasn't your run-of-the-mill, nasty, Gryffindor-hating Slytherin. He was nice, and extremely sweet. He was always helping out the 1st year Slytherins if they got lost, which Lyra thought was really good of him. He was a great student too, and after Hogwarts, he wanted to go into Healing. At least, that's what Lyra heard at the breakfast table.

"Well, maybe I'll go. I can always come back early if I don't feel well," Lyra prompted, shutting her book. She carefully set it on the end table next to her chair. She turned to face Evan.

"Well, I think it'd be cool if you and I, you know, went together," Evan managed to say. Lyra felt herself blushing.

"I think it'd be cool too," Lyra replied.

"Great, then I'll see you tomorrow then," Evan said, and headed back up to the dormitories. Lyra slumped back into her chair, smiling wide.

The next morning, Lyra awoke earlier than normal. She couldn't get the picture of herself and Evan out of her head, and wanted to make herself look as good as possible. With a simple spell, her sleek black hair was now in loose curls. She put on jeans and a green turtleneck, then threw on her cloak and her Slytherin scarf. Checking herself in the mirror, Lyra made sure every inch of herself looked perfect.

She walked outside into the chilly air and instantly wished she put on more layers. It wasn't going to get any warmer than what it was now, and that was not very promising to Lyra. The sky was cloudy and a very murky gray, but somewhere Lyra knew the sun was lurking.

Lyra saw Evan ascending to the big open area with some of his other friends. They were laughing and joking around with each other. Suddenly Lyra hoped _she_ could make him laugh too. But what if she wasn't funny enough? Or interesting enough? Lyra was quiet, she didn't know how she could entertain someone as cute as Evan.

"Ready to go?" Evan asked her as Mr. Filch checked their names off the list of students who could go to Hogsmeade. Lyra nodded, and felt Evan slip his hand into hers. Promising not to blush, Lyra and Evan walked to Hogsmeade. Her nervousness was brushed aside not far into their trip, when Lyra found it was extremely easy to talk to Evan. They both talked about their love of the Bulgarian Quidditch team, and that conversation carried them all the way to Zonko's.

They spent most of the morning in Zonko's, hands intertwined, laughing and pointing at all the things that could be found there. Lyra demonstrated several of the joke products there, and at one time found herself with her tongue tied in a knot. Once the effect wore off, she hit Evan hard on the arm, saying he should have warned her about making a fool of herself.

"You didn't make a fool of yourself," Evan promised as they walked into the Three Broomsticks. "Here, if it makes you feel better, I'll buy you some butterbeer. It always makes me feel better."

"Alright, if you _must_," Lyra said sarcastically. Evan soon returned with two butterbeers in hand. He set one down in front of her, the froth spilling down the front of the glass and onto the table.

"You know… I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but if I met you on the street, you wouldn't come off as a Slytherin to me," Lyra said.

Evan laughed, a bit of butterbeer coming out his nose. "You don't seem like the Slytherin type to me, either," he replied, wiping his mouth. "My mum was in Slytherin, and so was my uncle. I'm named after him, so maybe that's why…"

"Who's your uncle?" Lyra asked.

"Evan Rosier," he replied.

_Evan Rosier_. That named sounded familiar. She'd heard her old Headmaster speak of his name a few times, but she'd never thought much of it.

"What about your parents?"

Lyra took another sip of butterbeer. "From what I've heard, they were in Slytherin too. I wouldn't know, I've never met them."

Evan looked as if he was just hit in the stomach by a Bludger. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Lyra laughed. "Don't worry about it. I've never met them, but I've heard a little bit about them. I'm supposed to be a spitting image of my mother."

"Come to think of it…you _do_ look like someone my uncle was friends with," Evan said. "She was gorgeous. She had the most beautiful hair I think I've ever seen. Well, next to yours, of course. I really like what you did with it."

Lyra blushed. "I just got tired of wearing it straight all the time. It isn't permanent, though. I wish it was," she added. She took a few more sips of her butterbeer.

"So, did you hear that Bulgaria's getting a new Seeker?" Evan asked.

Lyra nearly spit out her butterbeer. After forcing it down her throat, she looked at Evan. "Are you kidding me? What happened to Viktor Krum?"

"He wanted to be traded, well, that's what the article said. He's going to some team in Switzerland now. Geneva something, I think," Evan explained.

Lyra was at a loss beyond words. "He always seemed to happy with Bulgaria. He got them to the World Quidditch Cup for Merlin's sake!"

"Only to have them pummeled by Ireland. They haven't been back since, you know," Evan pointed out. "I have the article with me, if you want to see it…" Evan dug around in his pockets and pulled out an old _Daily Prophet_. He opened to the Quidditch section and showed Lyra the article.

"I can't believe it…whenever I talked to him he seemed so happy to be playing for Bulgaria," Lyra said, staring at the paper.

"You…you _knew_ Viktor Krum?" Evan asked in awe.

"Yeah, he's an old friend of mine. We grew up together. Well, he's a few years older than I am. We keep in touch occasionally," Lyra said as if it was no big deal. It really wasn't a big deal to her. He may be internationally famous, but his Quidditch playing skills didn't fool Lyra. He was a nice guy, and incredibly smart too.

"What's he like?" Evan asked, scooting his chair closer to Lyra. She laughed.

"He's a very nice guy. Very quiet, very reserved. Incredibly smart too," she added. "He's Viktor, I don't know how to describe him. He's been a great friend to me." The subject of Viktor Krum and his Quidditch playing carried Lyra and Evan for nearly an hour. Lyra couldn't believe how easy it was to talk to him, and to laugh with him.

After finally resting the subject of Viktor Krum, Lyra and Evan walked outside to explore the rest of Hogsmeade together. Their plans were put to rest, however, when the two heard screams. It was coming from near Zonko's, and in an instant a herd of Hogwarts students came racing out towards the castle. Lyra and Evan managed to loose each other in the chaos.

Students were dropping their bags with newly bought possessions and racing back to the castle. But why? What was so horrible in Zonko's? Chaos ensnared Hogsmeade, and people from nearby shops came out to see what all the fuss was about. They had the same sentiments as Lyra- they had no idea what was going on. Lyra pulled out her wand and battled her way through the fuss to see what was going on. She didn't have to go far to see what was wrong.

_Death Eaters_. In the middle of Hogsmeade. They were attacking students, no less. There were four, maybe five of them, wearing their awful robes and masks. The Dark Mark hadn't been fired up yet, so maybe there was still hope. To her left, Lyra saw Harry Potter and his friends come running towards the Death Eaters and immediately into battle. But sixth year students were no match for grown Death Eaters. Within no time at all, Neville Longbottom was on the ground, whimpering in pain.

_The first of the students are probably arriving back at Hogwarts_, Lyra thought. It would be too little, too late before the staff got here. Lyra heard an evil cackle from one of the masked Death Eaters. She turned to see Evan lying on the ground, crying out in pain. He was being tortured by the Cruciatus Curse.

"My Master doesn't like abandoners, Evan! This should teach your family!" the Death Eater cried, and cast the spell again.

"Leave him alone!" Lyra cried, dropping her things. She ran forward, her wand raised. "_STUPEFY!"_ The spell was stronger than the Death Eater thought, and immediately flew backwards. Lyra sprinted over to Evan's position.

"Evan? Can you hear me?" she asked, gently shaking him. All she got was a groan. Somewhere, somehow, three more Death Eaters popped up, and greatly outnumbered the people trying to fight them. Cursing to herself, Lyra pulled Evan to safety. Once he was hidden away, Lyra ran forward to help battle the Death Eaters.

Lyra became entangled with a particular nasty one. His spells were stronger than she had ever seen before, and she only barely dodged the Killing Curse.

"_IMPEDIMENTA!"_ Lyra cried.

The Death Eater was blasted backwards, smashing into a tree and knocking him unconscious. Panting, Lyra looked at the scene unfolding in front of her. Six Death Eaters were down, five were still battling. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, and Susan Bones were the only students still battling. But Susan Bones was suddenly flung backwards, now incapable to fight. Lyra rushed up to resume her battle with the Death Eater.

"Oh, another one?" the Death Eater cried. It was another male, and he seemed amused to be fighting sixth year Hogwarts students.

"_STUPEFY!"_ he cried, but with a flick of her wand, Lyra blocked it. The spell ricocheted into a nearby shop, causing a window to break and its occupants to cry out in fear.

"Come on, that's all you have? Voldemort must not be training you guys hard enough," Lyra teased.

"How _dare_ you speak his name!" The Death Eater cried, rising his wand. "You need to learn manners, young lady!"

"You need to learn when your welcome is overstayed," Lyra shot back. "_Cruentum Corpus!" _Suddenly invisible knives seemed to slash at the Death Eater's clothing, and Lyra saw blood seep out onto his robes. He cried out in pain, but no one seemed to hear him. To her left, Ron Weasley was on the ground now. His arm was bent at an odd angle, and he wasn't moving. He didn't appear to be dead, however.

Ron's Death Eater had now moved onto Hermione. Hermione was battling two Death Eaters now. Though she had her book smarts, Lyra highly doubted if Hermione had the practical knowledge to beat both of them. Ushering forward, Lyra began spouting off any spell she could think of.

"_STUPEFY! EXPELLIARMUS! STUPEFY!"_ she cried out. She couldn't think of the more advanced spells, her mind was in overdrive as it was. She was going to stick to the basics, it had gotten her this far.

The Death Eater blocked her spells with ease. It seemed this young teenage girl was boring the adult Death Eater, but he wouldn't pass up a chance for fresh meat. Lord Voldemort had promised him everything from Mars and back if he delivered Harry Potter to him, anything else he captured was his to keep. He couldn't _wait_ to get his hands on this feisty young girl. The Death Eater paused for a split second, thinking of his spoils, which was all Lyra needed to send a curse his way.

"Thanks!" Hermione cried, panting heavily. Three Death Eaters were left, and only Harry, Lyra, and Hermione remained. Lyra looked over her shoulder to see Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape sprinting down the pathway towards Hogsmeade. Lyra turned her gaze back towards the Death Eaters. Without warning, Hermione was lifted up in the air and slammed against the side of a building. She fell limply to the ground, blood pooling around her head. Crying out, Lyra ran towards her.

Hermione wasn't breathing, and her neck was bent at an odd angle. "She can't be dead, she just can't!" Lyra said, trying somehow to revive her.

The Death Eater laughed. Lyra could feel hatred and fury surging throughout her body. Raising herself off the ground, she turned to the Death Eater, seething. For the first time Lyra had made a friend that wasn't one of Malfoy's cronies…and now she was lifeless on the cold permafrost ground in front of some eclectic shop in Hogsmeade.

Rushing forward, Lyra shouted the first thing that came into her mind- "_CRUCIO!"_


	7. Running Away to Nowhere

**Chapter 6: Running Away to Nowhere**

The Death Eater wriggled in pain on the ground. His screaming reminded those around him of a young girl in pain unimaginable. His shrieking echoed up to the castle walls and to the Shrieking Shack. But the amount his voice carried was of no concern to Lyra. She wanted him to pay.

Breathing in deeply, Lyra ended the spell. The Death Eater had stopped screaming, but he still continued twitching on the ground. The other two Death Eaters around him ran towards him. One grabbed his wrist, and the three instantly apparated.

Lyra's breathing became shallower, she was gasping for breath. Her heart was racing as she turned around. Standing behind her, with a look of horror on their faces, were Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape. All three were too horrified to speak. Lyra could have sworn she saw Professor Snape's face pale even more than it already was. Without saying a word, Lyra turned on her heel and ran as fast as she could away from her three teachers. The only thing Lyra could hear as she sprinted away from Hogsmeade was the newly fallen leaves crunching beneath her feet.

Lyra ran until her legs had no more capacity to run anymore. Collapsing on the dusty roadside near an old wooden fence, Lyra tried her best to catch her breath. But catching her breath was the least of her worries. She had used an Unforgivable Curse. She was going to be expelled from Hogwarts. She was going to be sent to Azkaban. Lyra shuddered as she thought of the small prison in the middle of the North Sea. The Dementors were gone, but their influence, Lyra was sure, was still felt.

Lyra looked at around at her surroundings. She could still see Hogsmeade in the distance, but the night was growing dimmer and so was Lyra's visibility. Shivering, Lyra wished she brought an extra cloak. But then again, she didn't think she'd be running away from her problems. Preparing herself mentally and physically for walking even more, Lyra slowly came to her feet. She checked behind her back to see if anyone was following her, and began walking.

But Lyra walked into something and fell backwards on the dusty gravel road. It surprised her more than she would have liked it too. Dusting herself off, Lyra saw Professor Snape standing in front of her, and he didn't look happy.

"Running away, Miss Malfoy?" he asked, his arms crossed. Lyra didn't want to admit she was running away, but it seemed like the only thing to do.

"Well, it's better than the alternative," she replied, walking past him. He grabbed her arm, perhaps harder than he should have, and brought Lyra directly in front of him.

"And what do you think is the alternative?"

"Getting expelled…getting sent to Azkaban _like my mother_," she sneered. Professor Snape let go of Lyra's arm immediately.

"What do you know about your mother?" he asked.

"That she was sent to Azkaban for using the Cruciatus Curse," Lyra replied. "And I used it too, and now I'm following in her footsteps. But I won't go. I am not going to live my life like her!"

Professor Snape laughed. "That's all you know about your mother, Lyra. That one tiny bit of information." Professor Snape seemed amused at Lyra's answer.

"What difference does it make?" Lyra asked before trying to walk past Professor Snape again. He stopped her once more.

"I can assure you, Miss Malfoy, that you will not be going to Azkaban."

"How do you know? Or are you just saying that because you don't want Draco running off and telling his father _you_ let me rot like a dead carcass?" Lyra asked.

Professor Snape smirked. "Let's think, Miss Malfoy. Who did you use the Cruciatus Curse against?"

"A Death Eater. Why are you asking me this? I already know-"

"-And why _would_ you use it against one?"

"Because he was attacking my friends! They were going to kill us!" Lyra said.

"Well, because you were with Mr. Potter, who is a law unto himself, and because of the circumstances, I am fairly certain you will not be taken to Azkaban. The Ministry would rather catch Death Eaters than prosecute those who almost caught them. Now, if you'll come with me, it is time to report back to the castle." Professor Snape looked firmly on the young girl, who looked scared out of her mind.

Nodding slowly, Lyra turned around and followed her Potions master, who maintained a firm grip on her upper arm during the long walk back to the castle. When the front doors were in sight, it was already dark. Lyra felt the sweat perspiring from her body now begin its attack to drench her clothing. Breathing heavily, Lyra followed Professor Snape into the castle. She thought she might faint from exhaustion as they passed the usual way to the Common Rooms, and instead walked straight up to Professor Dumbledore's office.

"In," Professor Snape demanded, holding open the door for Lyra. Using the last bit of energy she could, Lyra forced herself to walk through the doorway. Professor Dumbledore abruptly stopped his conversation he was having with two wizards who were in his office. They both looked angry, and one had been pointing his finger at Professor Dumbledore.

"Ah, Miss Malfoy," the elder wizard said. He was a tall, well-built wizard with hair like an untidy crow's nest. He was wearing robes of the finest calibur, and he looked to be very important. He slowly circled Lyra as she collapsed in a chair in front of Dumbledore's desk. He muttered inaudible things to himself, even smirking when he stopped to examine her from the front.

The other wizard, the one who had been pointing his finger accusingly at Professor Dumbledore, wasted no time to get to the point. "Miss Malfoy, you have broken one of the most stringent rules the Ministry has. Unforgivable Curses are _never_ to be used at any time, even against Death Eaters! And then to think you _ran away_ from your problem? Did you not think we would find you?"

Lyra looked at Professor Snape, who glared at her. She turned to Professor Dumbledore, who nodded encouragingly. "I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't thinking, I should have never used that curse."

"That much," the wizard said curtly, "is obvious!"

"Quinten, I barely allowed you to interrogate my students, and I will certainly _not_ allow you address them in that way!" Professor Dumbledore said warningly. He peered at the wizard named Quinten, the twinkle in his eyes gone.

"You are lucky you're underage," Quinten said. "We would have taken you to Azkaban if you were seventeen. A few more months…"

Lyra fidgeted in her seat. She didn't like to be under this type of stress and pressure. She unceremoniously played with her hair, needing something to do with her hands. She watched as two Ministry wizards decided her fate silently in their minds. The wizard named Quinten looked at Lyra with curiosity in his eyes.

"Miss Malfoy, were you raised by Lucius and Narcissa?" he asked.

"No sir. Lucius is my mother's cousin. She died I was little, I was raised in an orphanage. It wasn't until recently that the Malfoys tracked me down," Lyra explained.

Quinten was quiet for a minute. "How deeply curious…so you're related to the Malfoy side, then? Not the Black side?"

"That is enough!" Professor Snape said, cutting in. He grabbed Lyra by the arm. "You're shaking, Miss Malfoy. When was the last time you ate?"

Lyra suddenly became aware of the growling in her stomach. "Breakfast, I think, sir."

"You need to eat. Come, we will go down to the kitchens," he said, pulling her out from her seat. She did as she was told. Professor Snape didn't release his grip on her until she was sitting in an armchair next to the fire in a little room off the kitchens.

A very peculiar house-elf named Dobby came to her service at once. "Dobby has never seen you before, miss. Are you a friend of Harry Potters?"

Lyra saw Professor Snape smirk before she answered. "I know who he is. I'm Lyra Malfoy."

Dobby went slightly pale in the face. "Dobby knows them, miss. He used to be in their service. But Dobby was released, and works at Hogwarts now!" His chest swelled with pride as he announced this fact. "What can Dobby get for Miss Malfoy?"

Lyra hadn't thought about this. She had the entire Hogwarts staff of house-elves at her service. "Not a lot, Dobby. Maybe a turkey sandwhich and some butterbeer."

Nodding, Dobby returned to the kitchens, and soon returned with two more house elves carrying a tray of sandwiches, bread, butter, and butterbeer.

"I trust you can find your way back to the dungeons?" Professor Snape asked, raising an eyebrow. Lyra nodded, she was too busy stuffing her mouth with the food. Then it occurred to her, that she was sitting here eating food while her friends were in the hospital wing. Hermione. Evan. She had to see them. Finishing her food and gulping down the rest of her butterbeer, Lyra made her way to the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere in sight, which made Lyra sigh in relief.

"Lyra? Is that you?" Hermione's voice from across the room. A lamp flickered on, luminating Hermione. Smiling, Lyra rushed over and hugged her friend.

"I'm so glad you're alright!" Lyra said, sitting on the edge of Hermione's bed. "I was so worried, I thought _for sure_ you had died."

"My neck was broken, but Madam Pomfrey mended that in about a second. I'll be in here for a while, I got hit with a lot of spells," Hermione said. Her voice dropped lower. "I heard about the Cruciatus Curse."

"Oh…that," Lyra said, fiddling with Hermione's bedsheets.

"I don't know exactly what to say," Hermione said. "I should tell you off for using an Unforgivable Curse, but if you hadn't used jumped in when you did…" her voice drifted off.

"Don't mention it. I don't think I'm in trouble, I've already talked with some idiots from the Ministry. Besides, what are friends for?" Lyra smiled, and Hermione did the same.

Never in Hermione Granger's life did she think she would become friends with a Slytherin. Lyra wasn't like the rest of them, and Hermione liked having friends other than Ron and Harry. Sure, Ginny was a girl and her friend, but Ginny was a year younger. Hermione liked having someone equally as smart as she was.

"You should probably go. Madam Pomfrey just went to the dungeons looking for a potion from Snape. She could be back any minute," Hermione said, her eyes flicking towards the door.

Nodding, Lyra stood up. "I'll try and visit whenever I can." She turned to leave.

"Lyra?" She turned back around.

"Thanks," Hermione whispered. Lyra smiled, and quietly left the hospital wing.

Lyra could only hope in the future she would be this lucky.


	8. Related to the Malfoys

**Chapter 7: Related to the Malfoys**

A week later, Hermione was released from the Hospital Wing. And when she was, Lyra suddenly found herself spending more time with Harry, Ron, and Hermione than she was with Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle. Lyra liked the time she spent with her fellow Slytherins, but she never seemed to agree with their views on much of anything. It was a well known within the House that most Slytherins had parents or friends of the family that were Death Eaters. They were brought up with the mindset that only purebloods were worthy enough of being a wizard, and most in the house were purebloods, or at least played up their pureblood side. Lyra wasn't very familiar with Lord Voldemort and his followers, but she heard what everyone else had. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived…

Lyra didn't mind her new change in friends. Draco started acting odd towards her after the incident in Hogsmeade. He seemed much more guarded around her now, as if anything he said Lyra would report back to the wrong person. Lyra remembered the walk back to the Common Room after Hogsmeade. She remembered the screaming match between her and Draco about her actions. He called her stupid and foolish, saying she never should have done that to the Death Eater. Lyra told him he was a coward, she didn't see him ushering forward to help. Lyra felt her blood run cold when Draco answered her. He said they'd never attack him, they were friends of the family.

Lyra was frustrated with the fact that Narcissa had owled ahead and asked that Lyra be put in Slytherin. Sure, Lyra was grateful at first. It was nice being around Draco and having that blanket of protection. But hearing Draco brag about his latest adventures and his father's contacts…sometimes Lyra regretted that she was actually related to him.

Ahh…the joys of being related to the Malfoys. Quinten's comments after the incident at Hogsmeade unnerved Lyra. Narcissa's surname must have been Black, it was the only way to explain his comment. She knew her mother was in Azkaban. But she wasn't sure if her mother was related to Lucius Malfoy. Maybe it was his bleach blond hair that tipped Lyra off, the sheer opposite of her dark black hair. Or maybe it was the utter loathing and hatred of his views on the wizarding world that convinced Lyra there was no way they could be related.

But…there were always buts. Lucius Malfoy could be her father and she could still completely disagree with his views on everything. When Lyra pondered these thoughts, she often thought it was better not to have any family at all. Lyra was torn between her feelings. She _hated_ their way of life, the pompousness, the blackmail, the threats. But then again, she loved it. She loved the power, the money, her ability to get what she wanted. Yeah, if she wasn't being torn to shreds by Draco…

But it was Christmastime, and Lyra would be heading to the Malfoy Manor to spend two weeks with her newfound family.

The snow was becoming heavier and heavier with each passing minute. Somewhere a whistle blew, and the remaining stragglers on the platform scurried inside the warm interiors of the train. The heavy steel doors slammed shut, and soon the train began to pick up speed. Soon it was billowing along its snowy tracks.

Lyra was stuck in a compartment with Draco, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and Blaise. She found herself staring out the window most of the time, but her time was wasted in vain; the snowstorm was so thick she could hardly make out anything.

"So Lyra, where's your _boyfriend_?" Pansy teased.

"My what?" Lyra asked, a bit groggily. She was almost asleep before Pansy asked that ridiculous question.

"Evan Yaley?"

"You're snogging Evan Yaley?" Malfoy's drawling voice came. He snorted, and then returned to the magazine he had been reading.

"Does it matter if I am?" Lyra asked, growing hot.

"Well no, if you like traitors," Malfoy replied from behind a magazine. "His uncle's friends with my father. Evan Rosier, he's a real nice guy." Malfoy's face turned to disgust. "His sister and her husband, though." Malfoy laughed. "Never mind, don't get me started."

Lyra rolled her eyes. She stood up, giving her legs a nice needed stretch. She walked towards the compartment door.

"Where are you going?" Draco demanded, putting down the magazine.

"To snog Evan," she replied with a smile. Slamming the compartment door shut, she walked down the halls, looking for Evan. She found him soon enough, in a compartment with three of his friends. She knocked, and slid the door open.

He looked surprised to see her, but glad nonetheless. He motioned for her to come in and sit down. Evan looked at his friends, and the both got the hint and left the compartment. Soon it was just Lyra and Evan.

"I haven't seen you in a while. Not since…"

"Not since Hogsmeade," Lyra finished. "I know, and I'm so sorry about that. I just thought you might want some time away from me, that's all. I almost got you killed."

To her surprise, Evan smiled. "You didn't get me killed. You _saved_ me. Someone told me how you pulled me to safety."

Lyra shrugged. "I didn't know what else to do."

"I guess I owe you one," Evan said shyly. "Thanks for saving my life."

Lyra could feel herself blushing. She looked down at her feet, smiling awkwardly. "Don't mention it."

Evan took his hand to Lyra's chin, and slowly raised her head up. Leaning forward, Evan's lips came closer and closer to hers…Lyra felt her knees go weak even though she was sitting down…she could see the light colored freckles on his face…And suddenly, with a passion burning like fire, Evan kissed her. His lips tasted sweeter than any candy Lyra had ever tasted.

Suddenly the door was blasted open, and Evan's friends came back in. Lyra and Evan flew apart, straightening their clothes.

"Dementors…they're on the train…" one said. His face was pale and Lyra could see beads of sweat falling down his face.

"WHAT?" Lyra cried, jumping up. She pulled out her wand. "Where?"

"Near the conductor. They've just-" the boy stopped, and gulped. "They did it. _The kiss._" His voice was barely a whisper.

Lyra could feel herself growing colder. The glass windows slowly began collecting a thick layer of ice. Lyra felt her happiness slowly drain away from her.

_No, snap out of it!_ Lyra told herself. _I know how to protect myself_.

Lyra looked at Evan. "Alright listen, this is how you protect yourself. Think of the happiest memory you can remember- the incantation's Expecto Patronum. If they come to you, use it."

"Where are you going?" Evan said, his teeth chattering slightly.

"To fight them off." Lyra exited the compartment, looking down both ways of the hallway. She was freezing now, she was sure her blood was going to stop flowing throughout her body. She saw the Dementors, five of them…gliding down the hallway, peering through the glass windows. Lyra knew who they were looking for- _Harry Potter_. He was on the train, and surely if they found him they would suck his soul away.

Checking her back, Lyra saw Harry exit his compartment too. He moved silently across the floor, coming to a stop just as he reached Lyra.

"Stay here," he said.

"Harry, they want you. There's too many for you to fight alone. I'm going with you," Lyra said firmly. "I know how to defend myself. I've done it before."

"I'm not going to be responsible for you death," Harry said.

"You won't be. I'm not going to die. You are, and so are innocent people if you don't stop fighting me and let me help you!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine. Let's go."

Harry and Lyra sprinted down the hallways of the train until they were twenty feet in front of the dementors. Lyra felt her insides go numb. She remembered dreadful…dreadful things…things she never wanted to relive. Unimaginable pain…

Lyra shook her head, trying to kill her thoughts. She focused on what just happened in the compartment with Evan. With his picture firmly in her mind, Lyra cried out, "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_ Soon a silvery white wolf came crouching out of her wand. To her left, a stag came out of Harry's wand. Together, and with great effort on Harry and Lyra's part, four of the dementors were driven away.

Lyra looked around. _Where was the fifth one_? She was positive there was five.

And then she saw it, about ten compartments ahead. That compartment…it looked familiar. Lyra's face dropped. That was Draco's compartment. She watched in horror as the Dementor slowly slid the door open with his long, crooked hands.

"No…" Lyra whispered. "That's Draco's compartment."

Lyra thought her legs were trapped in cement. She couldn't move, she was paralyzed in fear. The Dementor glided inside until Lyra could see no more of his shabby cloak. Lyra had to do something…she just knew it… No amount of hatred for Draco and his views on much of anything could ever make her want him to be attacked by a Dementor. Ever.

With newfound movement in legs, Lyra sprinted forward, leaving Harry behind. She rushed into the small room. Everyone was paralyzed in fear as the Dementor was bent over Draco. Lyra saw little wisps of silver coming from his mouth.

Lyra focused on her image of Evan. "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_ she bellowed. But it wasn't strong enough. The Dementor merely waved it off, and went back to Draco. Lyra needed something stronger, something no one could take away from her.

Lyra focused on her mother. Closing her eyes, Lyra pictured an older version of herself. She imagined being held by her mother as a small baby, being pampered with everything she could ever need and want. Love. Shelter. A family.

Lyra raised her wand. She hoped it wasn't too late. "_EXPECTO PATRONUM!"_

It worked this time. The wolf came prowling out of her wand, chasing the Dementor away. When it was fully gone from the compartment, Lyra felt everything grow warm again. But Lyra couldn't get warm. She was shivering. She slowly walked over to Draco, unsure of what she would find.

Lyra remembered studying Dementors in class. She was very young, her third or fourth year in school. She'd practiced on boggarts, but never on a real Dementor. It was career suicide if her Headmaster brought one into the school, but Lyra wouldn't put it past him to do such a thing.

"Draco?" Lyra whispered, stroking his hair. His breathing was shallow, his pale face laced in sweat. Lyra took his hand…he was shivering.

"Someone give me their cloak," Lyra croaked. "And some chocolate."

Crabbe scrambled to his luggage and pulled out an extra cloak and a bar of chocolate. Lyra threw the cloak over Draco's shivering body. She broke off a piece of chocolate and shoved it in Draco's mouth.

Soon enough, he began stirring. Lyra felt her heart start beating normally again. Smiling, she stroked Draco's hair.

"What happened?" he slurred, not fully awake.

"Don't worry about it. Here, eat some more chocolate," Lyra said, breaking off another piece and shoving it his mouth.

"We're almost there," Blaise said, nodding at the window.

"Alright, listen. I heard the conductor got the bad end of the dementors. I'm heading down to the front of the train now. Make sure Draco eats all that chocolate," Lyra said, standing up. "Keep him covered with that cloak, too. Don't let him sit up. He needs to rest."

If the people in the compartment felt annoyed that Lyra was barking out directions, they hid it well. Closing the door behind her, Lyra walked to the front of the train. Sure enough, the conductor was slumped over his chair. His eyes were wide open, and he was still breathing. But inside, Lyra knew he was gone. The train was still at full speed as the train station came into view. Lyra frantically looked at the beeping dials and levers, wondering which ones to push.

"Don't worry, it'll stop on its own," came a voice behind Lyra. She jumped, not expecting anyone else to be here. She turned around, and saw Evan standing in the doorway.

Smiling, Lyra put a hand to her heart, as if this would stop it from jumping out of her chest. "You scared me."

"Sorry, I didn't mean too. The train will stop on its own, the conductor's only here to make sure it gets to its destination," Evan explained.

"What are we going to do when we get to the station?" Lyra asked, looking ahead. Platform Nine and Three Quarters was growing nearer.

"One of my friends from Ravenclaw owled ahead," Evan said. "Come on, there's nothing you can do here."

Nodding, Lyra left. She returned to Draco's compartment. Pansy was feeding him the last bit of chocolate. He was fully awake now, but he was still lying down.

"How are you?" Lyra asked, crouching down next to him.

"I feel weak," Draco replied, closing his eyes. "But the chocolate's helping."

"We'll be there soon where we can get you some help," Lyra said. "Do you think you can sit up?"

Draco nodded, and slowly began pulling himself up. It required great effort on his part, but he somehow managed to do it. He was panting as he rested his head against the side of the compartment.

Lyra could feel the train slowing down greatly. She felt it stop abrupty, and then creep forward a few more feet. "We must be there. Crabbe, Goyle, grab our things. Blaise, help me get Draco out of here."

They nodded, and Lyra and Blaise put Draco's arms around their necks. He was still very weak, but he tried his best to put as much weight on his feet to help even out the load as possible.

Lyra, Blaise, and Draco stepped onto the platform to greet the weary eyes of the parents. Lyra caught the eye contact of Lucius and Narcissa. Narcissa was gripping onto Lucius's robes very tightly. The skin around her eyes was red and puffy, a sharp contrast from the paleness she had everywhere else.

"What happened?" Lucius demanded.

"Dementors," Lyra said. "They attacked Draco."

Narcissa let out a sharp cry.

"He's weak, but he's okay. They didn't get his soul," Lyra said. "We need to get him home."

"Nonsense, we'll go straight to St. Mungo's. Give him to me, Lyra," Lucius said. Lyra and Blaise transferred Draco's weight over to Lucius. Draco mumbled something, but no one could make out what he said.

"I'll take Draco to St. Mungo's. Narcissa, take Lyra back to the manor and then meet me at St. Mungo's," Lucius said.

"But Lucius-"

"Just do it," Lucius growled, before turning and walking away. Lyra's eyes met Narcissa's.

"Here," Goyle said, putting two trunks down in front of Lyra.

"Thanks," Lyra replied, taking the handles of both. Following Narcissa, Lyra left the chaos of the platform. It wasn't long until Lyra and Narcissa reached the countryside, where the booming Malfoy Manor came into view. It was a very pretty manor, much to pretty for someone like the Malfoys, Lyra thought. It was a gorgeous red brick color that sat high up on a hill. Inside, you were greeted by a large, grand staircase Lyra thought was the most magnificent thing she's ever seen.

"Will you be alright here by yourself?" Narcissa asked.

Lyra nodded. "I'll probably turn in for the night."

Narcissa smiled, the opposite of her stone-faced husband. Lyra loved Narcissa. She was kind and gentle, but tough when something needed to be done. She held her own after Lucius was arrested, showing society she could still function without Lucius on _her_ arm.

"The house-elves are here should you need anything," Narcissa said, turning to leave. "You did a great thing today, Lyra. Thank you for saving my son."

"It's the least I could do. I can't ever thank you enough for taking my in and making me family," Lyra replied.

"It's something that should have been done long ago, Lyra. I'm sorry we waited this long," Narcissa said, and left the manor.

Lyra looked around. It was the first time she had ever been in this house by herself. Everything was at her command. Everything that had been off limits during the summer- the library, the two rooms to the left of Lucius and Narcissa's bedroom suite…they were Lyra's to explore.

But Lyra's heart dropped. She didn't know when Lucius and Narcissa would be returning with Draco. If they caught her in one of the rooms, Lyra wasn't sure what was going to happen. She couldn't look- no, she wouldn't look. Feeling the exhaustion of fighting off Dementors, Lyra headed up the staircase to her room. It was exactly how she left it over the summer- neat and tidy.

Not even bothering to take her robes off, Lyra fell into bed, falling asleep immediately.


	9. 103 Benton Place

Chapter 9: 103 Benton Place

A/N: I apologize profusely for the long wait in between chapters. I'm currently reworking this novel to fit how I really wanted it to turn out- about Lyra. This isn't really about her relationships with guys or dementors attacking people on trains. It's about Lyra as she discovers her past. She has flirted with good, but Lyra is inherently evil. However, she is evil for reasons different than you might think. She is essentially, the female, "bad" counterpart to Harry Potter. That is the direction I wish to take this fic. Excuse my long absence again, and please enjoy!

A long absence in Lyra's conscious state brought on many unwanted dreams about those images she never wished to see. Flashes from her previous school, of spells, of boys, of her mother. And yet, on this cold wintry night, Lyra saw something she never thought she would see. It was almost if Lyra was a fly on the wall, privy to all the information surrounding her.

"_I wish to see her, my Lord. Please, I have done all you have asked for," a pleading voice came from the candlelight._

"_That is true, Bella. You have indeed been a loyal servant to me. But I cannot allow you to leave my side. If you are caught..."_

_Bella broke off her master. "I will not get caught."_

"_I cannot risk it. You have the right people looking out for her. You are still receiving weekly owls from Lucius and Severus, are you not?"_

_Bella nodded slowly. "She is my daughter. Letters are not enough. It's been nearly fourteen years."_

"_Then you can wait a little while longer, Bella. You will be reunited with your precious Lyra in due time. I will assure you it will be most bittersweet."_

"_I cannot wait a little while longer, my Lord. Please, I am pleading you."_

_Lord Voldemort let out a quiet chuckle. "Do I need to show you what true pleading is, Bella? Do not think you are immune from my wrath. I would curse you as I have Wormtail."_

"_No, my Lord, it is unnecessary."_

"_Good. You will remain here until our next plan is executed. Understood?"_

"_It is, my Lord."_

"_Just wait, my dear Bella. You have done well so far. I promise your wait will be worth it."_

When Lyra awoke, her heart was racing. Was it true? Bellatrix Lestrange was her mother? Her name had been uttered about the Malfoy house as if it were a curse. And at Hogwarts... the conversation Lyra overheard between Lucius and Snape... Lyra's conversation with Neville...

Was she really going to be reunited with her mother? Time had allowed Lyra the leisure of forgetting her parents. Any patriarchal bonds had been broken long ago. Yet, Lyra pained for the warm embrace she might receive from her parents.

The creak from Lyra's door caused her attention to shift to the house-elf that was now entering her room. An odd looking creature, this particular house-elf was much different that the ones Lyra had seen in the Hogwarts kitchens. It's short ears and larger stature made Lyra think it wasn't a house-elf, but it's distinctly high voice and servant submission confirmed to Lyra it truly was a house-elf.

"Mrs. Malfoy wants Miss Malfoy to know it is time for breakfast," the house-elf said at last.

"Yes, yes of course. I will be down momentarily," Lyra replied. She shielded her eyes as the curtains were opened in her room to reveal a spectacular view of green fields.

The house-elf left Lyra in silence once again. She put on a robe and went downstairs to the dining room, where Lucius and Narcissa were already seated. Lucius was reading _The Daily Prophet_ and Narcissa was reading _Witch! _Magazine.

In all of their vainness, Lyra wondered if it ever occurred to them that she had a mother, and a father, too, but he was too far into madness he would never come out. As they sat here, drinking their tea and eating their biscuits, Lyra was mentally tortured with the prospect that her mother was out there, somewhere, and unable to see her only child.

"Lyra, I'm going into London today. Would you care to join me? I need to pick up a few items before Draco is released from St. Mungo's," Narcissa said nonchalantly. Her eyes didn't move from the magazine.

"Absolutely. Yes, please," Lyra responded. Lucius's eyebrow went up just a twitch.

"Do you really think it is wise for her to go into town with you, darling?" Lucius asked. He folded up his newspaper and set it next to his steaming cup of tea. His hands clenched his ceramic saucer a bit too tightly as he took a delicate sip of the amber liquid.

"Of course it is. Why would it not be?" Narcissa now looked her husband in the eye.

"After last night's event on the train..." Lucius's voice trailed off.

"They weren't after me, Lucius. They were after Harry Potter." Lyra couldn't help but have a hint of hate in her voice. "Besides, I would like to pick up something for Draco before he comes out of St. Mungo's."

"Very well, then. Narcissa, we're picking up Draco at four today. I'll meet you at St. Mungo's, then?" Lucius said.

"Yes, darling, we will meet you there."

Several hours later, Lyra and Narcissa were on their way to what Lyra thought was London . However, as Lyra was about to Side-Apparate next to her aunt, Narcissa announced they would not be going to London as planned. Instead, Lyra and Narcissa found themselves standing in front of a well-worn down house. The mailbox read '103 Benton Place '. Wherever this " Benton Place " Lyra was at, it seemed very foreign to her. The iron fence showed signs of early rust, and the gate was holding on by only one hinge. The house itself was in worse shape than the fence. Despite the large amount of newly fallen snow, the garden and lawn were overgrown by large weeds.

"Aunt Narcissa... I thought..." Lyra began.

"My dear Lyra... I'm afraid I must be honest with you. You are not related to Lucius's side of the family," Narcissa said slowly.

Lyra laughed. "I was wondering when you would tell me that. I know."

Narcissa looked taken aback by Lyra's bluntness. Lyra forged ahead, pushing open the broken gate and standing in front of the rotting wooden door. With a little nudging, the door opened and inside Lyra found what was once a pristine and prime house. Expensive looking furniture was now covered in white sheets, oak tables were now covered in several inches of dust.

"This is the house of my parents. Cygnus and Druella Black. Your mother and I grew up here, along with our _other_ sister." Her voice rested on a hint of bitterness. Narcissa gazed around the room in remembrance. "The house elves have all died, and I never bothered employing more to look after the house. It's not exactly Malfoy Manor, but it is home."

Her mind wandered back to the days when the she and her sisters were all very young- before they were at Hogwarts. They would run rampant around the backyard for hours, pretending to be saved from trolls and ogres. Although not confirmed, Narcissa always had a sinking feeling her father had been a follower of Grindelwald. He had late night meetings in this very room, ones Narcissa and her sisters would sneak out of bed to witness.

With a flick of her wand, the fireplace began to roar and crackle as a warmness began to flood the room. Another _swish_ and the white sheets covering the furniture was gone, leaving magnificent pieces of soft velvet left in the room.

"Oh dear, Lucius is just going to kill me if he finds out I'm telling you this," Narcissa began, taking a seat on the black velvet chair next to the fireplace. Lyra sat on the bear-skin rug in front of the fireplace, warming her hands.

"I should tell you something. I had... a dream last night," Lyra began, looking down.

"What sort of a dream?" Narcissa asked.

Lyra hesitated. She sighed. "It wasn't really a dream, I guess, it was like... I was _there_, you know?"

"No, I really don't."

"My mother... I know who she is. Bellatrix Lestrange. She tortured Neville's parents into madness. She broke out of Azkaban. The dream I had... she wanted to come see me. Voldemort wouldn't let her, he said she still has one more mission to do before she is rewarded."

Narcissa sat in a state of shock. Her eyes glazed over as she realized the implications of this knowledge. It would only be a matter of time before Bellatrix came back into her life. Narcissa hadn't seen Bella since she was put in Azkaban. If Bella found out Lucius had sent her daughter away, her wrath would be unimaginable.

Lyra reminded Narcissa of Bella in every way imaginable except for one. Both women were incredibly strong and talented dark witches, except Bella had a temper that was not to be reckoned with. Lyra was docile much like Rudolphus was in his early years. However, Narcissa did not doubt the idea that Lyra could be just as dangerous as her mother.

"Your full name is Lyra Druella Lestrange. You were born in Bristol to Rudolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange. After your parents were sent to Azkaban for the torture of the Longbottoms, you were sent to live with Lucius and I. Lucius didn't want remnants of his Death Eater life living with us, so he sent you away," Narcissa explained. "I had no idea what happened to you until Igor contacted us after the Tri-Wizard Tournament. He said you were at Durmstrang."

"I think I would much rather be there than here," Lyra said instantly. She stood up. "I want to leave."

"Lyra please! I must explain!" Narcissa said.

"There is no need to explain, Narcissa. I think I understand completely," Lyra growled. She got up and walked to the door, only to have it magically shut and locked. Taking out her wand, Lyra attempted to open it with no success.

"Open this door, Narcissa. I don't want to curse you," Lyra warned, turning around.

Narcissa laughed. "I highly doubt that. You may be like your mother, but you are still 16 and _highly_ uneducated. Now sit down!"

Doing as she was told, Lyra took a seat on the cream colored couch and set her wand down on the cushion next to her. She stared at Narcissa.

"I am not surprised you saw what you did," Narcissa commented, pacing the room. She picked up an old photo of herself and smiled. "The bond between you and your mother was always quite strong. She was so proud to have you."

"Funny, I was always under the impression pureblood families wanted to have sons," Lyra replied dryly.

"I have no doubt your parents would have had more children had they not been captured. Circumstances place us in our positions, Lyra. You are no more than a player in the hands of fate."

A player. A pawn. All Lyra had become was an object able to be moved at the will of others. She never had the tight control she thought she did.

"What you saw may or may not have been real, but the fact is, you know who your mother is. I was hoping to give you the news personally, but unfortunately it is a bit too late for that," Narcissa said.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Lyra asked quietly. Her gaze turned to the photographs on the mantle. She got up, slowly, and drifted towards the photographs. Lucius and Narcissa on their wedding day. Draco as a baby. Then, Lyra's parents, together, smiling, happy.

"It's quite a complicated situation, as you can tell. I didn't mean for it to be an insult to your intelligence. For one, I do not think very many parents at Hogwarts would want the daughter of a convicted Death Eater to be running around the school. It would cause too many problems for all involved."

Narcissa hesitated. "And secondly, oh Lyra, you must forgive me for telling you this. You see, it was the Dark Lord's doing. He needs Bella. She is his most loyal servant. He was so angry when she had you... his plans must go according to how he wants them. He needs her, Lyra. He sees you as a distraction."

"I am a distraction?" Lyra said in disbelief. Hiding her intense anger, she put down the picture of her parents and turned towards her aunt. The look on Narcissa's face was a mix between smugness and sadness.

"He is the Dark Lord, Lyra. You have never met him-"

"Oh _please_!" Lyra spat. "I went to Durmstrang for five years. I studied under Igor Karkaroff. He may have been a traitor but I am no stranger to Lord Voldemort. I know his followers and their children. I know his curses, I know the creatures he employs in his power. It's all about domination for him, isn't it?"

"You must not question him, Lyra. Surely you must have learned that," Narcissa asked. "He is dangerous. I have lost those I love to him. Lucius, your mother, even Draco! He gets what he wants. Your mother is his servant. He needs her to do his bidding. I can't explain it any clearer than that."

"I just don't get what type of person would willingly separate a child from her mother," Lyra said.

"Come with me. I want to show you something," Narcissa said, hastily changing the subject. Leaving her wand on the couch, Lyra followed Narcissa up the stairs by the door. The stairs took them to the long hallway on the second floor. It was still quite dark despite Narcissa turning on the lights. There were three doors on the left, and two on the right. Narcissa went to the end of the hallway and opened the last door on the right.

Lyra entered a generous sized room, laced in gold and green.

"This was your mother's room," Narcissa commented. "This house has been abandoned since my parents died over a decade ago. They left it in my possession, seeing as your mother was in Azkaban and Andromeda had been shunned from the family. I rarely have a chance to visit it. I'll leave you here alone."

Narcissa left and quietly shut the door behind her. All that was left was a quiet room and Lyra Druella Lestrange. Lyra looked around the room and chuckled. It wasn't the most pristine room. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It wasn't a mess, it was rather organized chaos. Lyra first went to the wardrobe in the corner. It was tall and black, and Lyra hesistated before she opened it. She was now about to delve into the world of Bellatrix Lestrange, psychotic Death Eater and mother.

The wardrobe contained nothing but old Hogwarts robes that went out of style years ago. To the ordinary witch or wizard it was nothing exciting, but Lyra finally felt a connection to the woman supposedly to be her mother. She was finally materializing through the clothes she wore, rather than the object the verbs and adjectives that described her.

Moving away from the wardrobe, Lyra found a black wooden trunk sitting at the base of her mother's four poster bed. She carefully opened the faded brass clutch that held the top and bottom pieces together. The trunk opened with a loud _creak, _causing Lyra to jump back. Without allowing her heart to calm down, Lyra went back to the trunk and peered down. It was a jumble of spell books and old quills that Lyra thought could have easily been her own.

Putting aside the faded and old spellbooks, a flash of gold caught Lyra's eye. She bent down further, and pulled out a black leather diary laced with gold tipped pages. Lyra heard footsteps coming back to the room and she quickly put the diary in her robes. Shutting the trunk, she stood up just as the door opened.

"Come, we must go to London now," Narcissa said quietly.

Lyra nodded and followed the mass of blonde down the stairs. It was evident Narcissa had been using several cleaning charms to get rid of the dust and dirt the house had built over the years. It was now in the glory it had held once ago, except now the hustle and bustle of the busy house had been replaced with the quiet winter solitude.

"Wait, Narcissa," Lyra said. "Would you mind-?" Lyra's gaze turned to the photo of her parents on the fireplace mantle.

"Take it, it is yours," Narcissa said. Quickly, Lyra ran across the room and grabbed the picture. She tucked it in her robes in the same place as the diary, and the two witches headed back out into the cold.

"Do not repeat this to Lucius. He would be furious," Narcissa repeated. "Take my arm."

Soon enough, the house at 103 Benton Place had disappeared. All that was left was a photograph, a diary, and a memory of what once had been.


	10. Attack

Chapter 10: Attack

A hint of pale moonlight flirted with Bellatrix Lestrange's room. It was odd to see such a natural beauty again, for the fourteen years she spent in Azkaban had robbed her of every little detail of human life. Bellatrix had changed, though. Depsite the hope she had harbored in every inch of her body, she was now seperated from reality. She was going insane, Bella. Her only hint of mental saneness was the daughter she had to abandon for Azkaban.

In retrospect, Bella realized she wouldn't have done anything differently. Had she been given a second chance, she would find herself in exactly the same place. Rudolphus, too. Their servitude to the Dark Lord rivaled no other. Perhaps it was their own chance at power and fame that lured them to the dark side. It created such a strong bond neither prison nor death could break it.

"Bella, what are you doing?" came a voice from the darkness. Bella turned around to see Rudolphus standing in the doorway. Despite his deep and menacing voice, Bellatrix always found comfort in the sound of her husband.

"Just about to turn in," she replied. "I had forgotten how much I missed the moonlight. I thought I would watch it a little while longer."

"Has Lucius contacted you this week?" Rudolphus attempted to mask the eagerness in his voice with no avail.

"No, he has not. I would imagine he's too busy. Didn't you hear? The Dementors on the Hogwarts Express attacked Draco instead of dear little Harry Potter. He's in St. Mungo's," Bellatrix explained.

_Dear _little Harry Potter. Oh how Bella loathed his name. He stood for all she was against. Her pain and suffering were because of this boy. _Boy_, not a man. He wasn't even of age and he still had evaded capture for so many years.

"I've always said Dementors weren't worth our time. They may be deadly but they are as dumb as a box of rocks," Rudolphus said.

"The Dark Lord wishes it so," Bellatrix replied quickly. She stood up and walked towards her husband. "He believes they are useful. We cannot question him."

"I wasn't questioning him, my dear Bella. This is purely the opinion of your husband," he replied. "Get some rest. We have a meeting tomorrow."

A quick kiss on the cheek and Rudolphus had left the room. Although Bellatrix attempted to sleep, her tosses and turns throughout the night made it otherwise impossible to do so. Her mind wandered and then faded back in. Sleep never came easy to those who had a lot on their mind.

_Lyra_. Where was she? Who was she? What did she look like? Letters from Severus and Lucius only told half a tale. Her mind wandered to the most recent letter from Severus, which she recieved just before the Hogwarts break.

_I have continued to keep tabs on your daughter, Bellatrix. While her Potions skills continue to lack, the rest of her marks seem more than acceptable. She is a talented witch, particularly in the area of Charms. I must warn you, however, she knows little of her pure-blood background and soon, I am afraid, she could fall in with the wrong crowd. I have attempted to push her towards the right people, but she is your daughter and she is stubborn. I urge you to make contact with her as soon as possible, Bellatrix. Perhaps then she might be able to concentrate in my class. _

Severus made Bellatrix laugh. He was most concerned with himself and how students were doing in his class and his class only. His allegiances and loyalties may have shifted back and forth over the years, but Severus was still the same. He was still that same, grimy first year Bellatrix met as an older student. His eagerness to fit in led him to Lucius Malfoy's dormitory one fall night, and Bellatrix had never seen Lucius so thrilled to have a follower.

Bellatrix looked at the picture on her bedside table for a long moment. She couldn't wait to be a family again. Perhaps Lyra would even join her as a follower of Voldemort. From Lucius and Severus's letters, she would seem to be an excellent addition to the Death Eaters. She would just neet a bit of practice, that's all.

However, one part of Severus's letter continued to bother Bella. _She knows little of her pure-blood background_. Bella remembered that fateful night, years ago, giving up her precious daughter. Lucius and Narcissa promised to raise Bella. Both were of pure-blood ancestry... there should be _no _reason... none whatsoever...

But this was a battle for another time. With visions of spells and Galleons, Bellatrix settled down for another lonely night.

Nearly a week had passed since Draco had been home from the hospital. The trip Narcissa and Lyra made to the Black home was all but forgotten; Lucius and Narcissa made Draco their number one priority. Lyra didn't mind, of course. She had faded to being the human counterpart of wallpaper; she was always there but hardly acknowledged. Draco and Lyra had been on odd terms since he returned home from the hospital. Their conversations consisted of nothing more than a "good morning" and a "goodnight".

Two days before Christmas, Lyra, Narcissa, and Draco had arranged for a last-minute visit to Diagon Alley. It was also their- and Lyra had a sneaking suspicion it was purely Lucius- time to show the Wizarding world the Malfoy family was still respectable. The evening itinerary included a lovely candlelit dinner in one of the most popular wizarding resturants in all of Britain . Surely it was pure coincidence.

Grabbing her moneysack from the bedside table, Lyra peered at herself in the mirror. She had somehow managed to tame her wild, black hair into a pristine bunch of curls. She wore bottle green robes which seemed to fit her curves at the right places. Lyra had been living with the Malfoy family for six months, and this was the first time she could remember the four of them going out, _as a family_.

"Come now, Draco. We're going to be late." Lucius's tone was final. "We'll be Apparating to London . The Floo Network is too dirty for my tastes."

Lucius sneered at the thought of traveling through a fireplace. The thought vanished from his mind as Narcissa came scurrying down the stairs.

"Very well then. Draco, you can Apparate?" Lucius asked. Draco nodded. "Can you, Lyra?"

"Well, no..."

Nearly an entire education at Durmstrang and not once had Lyra realized she couldn't Apparate. Hogwarts students learned it their sixth year, Durmstrang their seventh and final year.

"Take my arm, Lyra. We don't wait to be late," Narcissa said.

In a short moment the four Malfoys were standing in front of a very well-worn building. The windows were boarded up and Lyra doubted the door even swung open anymore. She knew, of course, that this was purely a show for Muggles, who would think the building was a dump. Once inside, however, it proved to be a spectacular place.

The walls were lined in a red velvet cloth and the floor was a magnificent black Persian carpet. Real trees were every so often, with real fairies mixed up in the branches. Their lights provided a bright yet quiet ambiance to the restaurant. After being taken to their table ("_The best seat in the house!_" the maitre'd said), Lyra noticed nearly the entire restaurant was staring in their direction. The rest of the table had noticed this, too, because Lucius was sitting up straight, one hand next to his Ever-Refilling Wine Glass and the other sitting lightly atop Narcissa's hand. Draco was sitting up straight, too, attempting to look as menacing and as powerful as his father. Lyra felt herself straighten up too, although unconsciously.

Their waiter, a tall and thin rail of brown, moppy hair was now coming towards them. The expression on his face looked as if he didn't want to be working, at least tonight. He did, however, hold back his thoughts as he reached the table.

"Good evening, Mr. Malfoy," their waiter said, bowing deeply. "I am Everett , I will be your server tonight." Lucius nodded his head in acknowledgement. "We have the best elf-churned wine here with us today, sir. Could I interest you?"

"Yes, that sounds lovely. Those two will take butterbeer. They are not of age yet," Lucius said to the waiter.

"Absolutely. Of course," Everett replied. With a wave of his hand, a large, ruby colored bottle was now in his hand. He gently poured the amber colored liquid into two wine glasses and set them in front of Lucius and Narcissa. Another _flick_, and soon Lyra and Draco's glasses were full as well. Everett bowed once more, leaving the family to choose their meal choices.

It was evident the peering eyes that had once been upon them were now gone, because as Lyra took her turn to look around the room, not one of the many familiar faces she saw looked back. In one corner, she saw Professor McGonagall dining with an older witch and a young man, that Lyra recognized to be Neville Longbottom. The elder woman must be his grandmother. On the opposite side of the room, the Minister of Magic himself, Cornelius Fudge, was sitting at a large table, surrounded by what seemed to be good friends by the way they were conducting themselves. Their speech, just like their wine, was free flowing. It seems they chose not to take advantage of the Ever-Refilling Wine Glass, because at the edge of their table were six different wine glasses, all empty.

"I do hope this place got rid of their old house elves. The last batch were terrible," Lucius said, peering at his menu.

"But this isn't a house," Lyra said, slightly confused. Draco sniggered behind his menu.

"It's still an establishment," Narcissa said, a little too quickly. "Work is still needed to be done. They exist here to do the work."

Embarressed, Lyra went back to choosing her meal. She had forgotten that there was an entire five course meal to be served. The rest of the table had gone quiet too, except for the occasional sound of a wine glass being put back on the table. In the midst of the awkward silence, Everett appeared once more.

"Are you ready to order, Mr. Malfoy?" Everett asked. "Or shall I give you more time?"

Within a matter of seconds the table was working their through the first course of a garden salad. Lucius complained that the salad was too dry, but Lyra thought it tasted all the same. Draco ate his salad too, but much slower than the rest of the table.

This was the first time Lyra had noticed a distinct change in his manner since the Dementor attack. He was much paler now, even more so than before. His cheeks did not give off a rosy color, rather they were as pallid as the rest of his face. The annoying sneer that once held his face in one permanent, fixed position was now gone. His movements and reflexes seemed to gave gotten slower, too.

The family was now half-way through their main course when a burst of bangs and shouting erupted somewhere outside the restaurant. It seemed to not bother Lucius, who was currently cutting up the last bits of his steak. The noise got louder and more pronounced, and now everyone who was within walking distance could hear the shouting.

_"Death be to you all!" _a high pitched voice cried.

_"Long live the Dark Lord!" _the other cried, this time it was a man's.

Before any of the patrons had time to react, the door was thrown open, bits of wood and glass falling every so often. The hostess, to what Lyra could see from her seat, was now lying unconscious somewhere near where the door knob had landed. It was as if some unspoken spell bound everyone to their seats, but no one moved as the Death Eaters made their way deeper into the building. A quick glance at Lucius revealed he was now starting to look nervous, although to an outsider he would seem normal. The muscles around his mouth contracted, his pupils had dilated, and he was beginning to breathe much quicker.

Panic had now erupted. Lyra didn't know how; she had blinked and soon she saw a mass exodus to the door. The few who had stayed to fight, Professor McGonagall, Neville and his grandmother, a man with shaggy blonde hair and what looked to be his girlfriend, and the entire table the Minister was sitting with, were now locked in a vicious battle with Death Eaters. Soon, several more Death Eaters, though Lyra couldn't tell whom, had arrived onto the scene.

The plan was becoming all too clear to Lyra. Lucius had foiled the family into thinking this was another night out. They were about to either capture or kill the Minister of Magic, and Lyra would be right in the middle of it.

"It is time to see where your allegiances lie," Lucius sneered towards Lyra. He stood up quickly, perhaps a little too quickly, because his wine was now seeping through the snow white cloth that engulfed the large, wood table. With a flick of his wand, a mask was now covering his face, and he left the tiny corner to help with the fight. In an instant, Draco did the same. He pulled out his wand and ran across the room.

"Come, Lyra. We must leave," Narcissa said. She sounded worried. Her panicked eyes darted across the flashes of red and blue light weaving around the room.

"I want to stay," Lyra said, her eyes narrowing.

"It is too dangerous. You are not-"

"-I am older than Draco, yet he is fighting. You can go. I will find my way home," Lyra said, her tone final.

"Your mother will not be here if that is what you are thinking!" Narcissa said. She moved out from back behind the table and was now rushing to the back entrance. She was pulling Lyra along with her.

"I will help regardless," Lyra sneered.

Understanding she could no longer control her niece, Narcissa swept out of the building as fast as she could, her robes billowing behind her. Turning around, Lyra surveyed the scene that was unfolding. Lucius was locked into battle with one of the men who had been sitting with Fudge. Neville and his grandmother were battling what Lyra remembered to be Crabbe's father. Lyra saw a Death Eater get blasted backwards to her left, and without hesitating, she grabbed her wand and began to duel.

It was the man with the shaggy blonde hair Lyra was dueling. He seemed to be very young, perhaps a few years out of school.

"Expelliarmus!" Lyra shouted, but the man moved out of the way. He laughed at her.

"That's all you got? I didn't know You-Know-Who was recruiting straight from the crib!" he cried, and sent a hex toward Lyra.

Lyra felt herself flying through the air, past Lucius, past Draco, landing right next to a disheveled Neville. He was on the ground, too, sporting a brilliant black eye and a large gash on his left cheek.

"Neville, you need to grab your grandmother and Professor McGonagall and _leave_," Lyra whispered as she stood up. Without a moment to waste, she was in battle with the same man, whose name now had appeared to be Conall, or at least according to the woman he was having dinner with.

Neville looked petrified, as if he could believe Lyra had spoken to him. Lyra hadn't noticed it, but soon Neville and his grandmother were gone, leaving McGonagall to help fight for the Ministry.

With a large flash of gold light, Conall was now disarmed and lying in a heap of broken table and chair. He had been knocked out, but only after nearly blowing off Lyra's left hand, singeing her robes, and giving her a bloody nose. In a hurry to defeat another, Lyra turned to her left and raised her wand. As she was about to yell "Stupefy!", she saw Professor McGonagall, poised and ready. Lyra lowered her wand and stared at the professor. Her lips were as thin as ever, a staunch look of determination on her face.

"I'm... I'm sorry, Professor. I will not fight you, today or any other," Lyra croaked.

"A wise choice, Miss Malfoy," she replied.

Lyra cringed. "It isn't Miss Malfoy, it's Miss Lestrange, if you please."

A hint of victory spread across the sneer of Lucius Malfoy as he heard those words from across the room. Professor McGonagall's face filled with horror. It seemed something had finally clicked for her, or her worst fears had been confirmed.

"Professor McGonagall, it isn't safe for you here. You need to leave. Voldemort is coming for Fudge," Lyra whispered, running towards her.

"I will not flee in my time of duty!" the teacher replied strongly.

"DO NOT TOUCH FUDGE, GOYLE! THE DARK LORD NEEDS HIM!" Lyra heard Lucius cry. Lucius was standing over Fudge, who had evidently been beaten.

"Please, Professor, I am begging you," Lyra said once more. "If something should happen, Hogwarts would be left without you. We can't afford for that to happen."

"Why are you telling me this, Miss _Lestrange_?" McGonagall said.

"I side with my family and that includes the Malfoys. You are too important to risk your life over _Fudge_," Lyra spat. Her eyes narrowed, her good hand clenched her wand, and she was now face to face with her Transfiguration professor.

"Surely you realize that if I allow Fudge to die, You-Know-Who will take over the Ministry!" McGonagall said.

"You are not allowing anything, Professor. Fudge is the one who came out here tonight-"

"Do you think it was by mere coincidence we ended up in the same restaurant?" McGonagall asked.

"What? You mean, you knew—_oh_, Dumbledore."

McGonagall nodded.

"GOYLE, I SAID LET HIM BE!" Lucius yelled again. "THE DARK LORD WILL BE HERE SOON!"

"Professor _please_. There is nothing left for you to do here. Fudge is down, Voldemort is coming! He will do nothing but kill you before-"

"LYRA!" Lyra whirled around to see Lucius, his wand still pointed at Fudge, turned in her direction.

With one last glance at McGonagall, Lyra strode to her uncle. His hair was now a mess, going every which way on his head. It seemed to match with the small cut he had on his forehead, which trickled blood down his face.

"What are you doing?" he sneered.

"What do you mean?" Lyra asked. She felt her heart rate skyrocket and her forehead begin to sweat.

"Whose side are you on, girl?"

"Cornelius Fudge is not worth her life," Lyra spat, glaring at the Minister of Magic. "What will happen tonight is inevitable. There was nothing she could do. I was merely-"

"Silence! How dare you insult my intelligence!"

"I'm not insulting your intelligence. I refuse to attack a teacher."

With a grunt of frustration, Lucius flicked his wand and soon Lyra was thrown across the room. Professor McGonagall cried out, perhaps a bit more loudly than she should have. With a sickening _thud_, Lyra hit the back wall and came to a heaped rest at its base. Drifting in and out of consciousness, the last thing Lyra could remember was a mad cackle of delight and long, black hair of a woman Lyra seemed to know.


	11. A Letter

Chapter 11: A Letter

Groaning softly, the sudden introduction of light into the room caused Lyra to stir from her comfortable slumber. She opened her eyes and the room came into focus. Lyra was back at the Malfoy Manor, back in her room, away from the danger.

"Mistress is up?" the house-elf asked. Lyra jumped, not having noticed the presence of another in the room. Lyra's sudden movement caused a wave of pain to travel from the top of her head down to the tips of her toes, leaving her teeth clinched in horror. Not daring to move her head, Lyra's eyes darted down to left hand, which was heavily bandaged. Her legs were stiff, as if they had never been used, and her chest hurt with every breath of oxygen intake.

"Would you please get Narcissa?" Lyra managed to say, rather weakly. Even the muscles in her face refused to contract enough to get comprehendible sentence out of her mouth. The house-elf nodded and left with a _crack_.

Lyra again closed her eyes and attempted to reconstruct the events that led to this misery. _The restaurant. Fudge. McGonagall. _All brief flashes in the mind. The images were like still pictures, each resting on a private scene none wanted to remember. More flashes. _Lucius. Fudge. Voldemort. _Lyra's mind seemed to stop spinning with images and seemed to pause on one particular. A loud, maniacal laugh. Then, a flash of black hair.

Lyra laughed to herself. It _couldn't_ have been her mother. Black hair could belong to more than one person. It wasn't owned or copyrighted... But Lyra's stomach sank. How many black haired witches are currently in the company of Lord Voldemort?

Reflecting on the creeping disappointment, the door to Lyra's room slowly opened. Lyra couldn't turn her head to see who it was, but by the sounds of the dainty footsteps it was Narcissa.

"You are awake," Narcissa said. She said carefully on the edge of the snow white comforter next to Lyra's injured hand.

"How long?" Lyra managed.

"Nearly a week. Lucius brought you back," Narcissa said. "We didn't dare take you to St. Mungo's... you would have been taken straight to Azkaban." Narcissa made a motion to stroke her niece's hand, but recoiled when she realized the large bandages that covered the once delicate skin and bone. Lyra attempted to move, but stopped in pain.

"I hurt... so much..."

"I would imagine so. Nearly half the roof fell on you before Lucius could get you out."

Silence plagued the room. It was Lucius who had cursed her, thrown her backwards into the wall. It was he who rescued her, despite the fact her own mother had been in the room.

"Rest up. You'll be going back to Hogwarts in the next week. If you don't feel up to it by then I will understand, however I think it would be best if you left... with Draco, I mean," Narcissa added quickly.

If Lyra had any confusion she hid it well, for within the moment proceeding Narcissa's exit from the room she was asleep again. The next few days had become a swirl of semi-consciousness. Lyra could remember hints of sunlight, the bobbing ears of house-elves, and a distinct pain in her left hand.

It was night when Lyra was finally able to get out of bed on her own accord. It was nearly midnight, if the clock on the wall was correct. Sitting up slowly, Lyra was relieved she felt no shooting pain rocking her body. Feeling confident, she allowed her feet to dangle above the floor. Breathing deeply, she stretched, allowing nearly two weeks' worth of movement to flood her body.

Lyra's knees nearly gave out as her full body weight was upon her two feet. Steadying herself against the bed with her good hand, Lyra stood up once again, and made her way out the door. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she noticed a pale and gaunt former version of herself. Her cheeks looked hollow and her eyes sunk into her face.

_I am never getting cursed again_, Lyra mused. She opened her door and slowly walked into the hallway. Her stomach rumbled. Lyra felt as if she hadn't eaten in months. Making a mental note to stop in the kitchen first, Lyra made her way, much more slowly than she wished, down the stairs. It took longer than expected for her sore feet to trudge their way to the kitchens, but when she finally made it, she was greeted by a small staff of house elves.

"Miss Malfoy!" the one closest to the stove cried out. Soon Lyra found herself sitting in a very comfortable red velvet arm chair.

"Oh please, I just want a turkey sandwich and perhaps a glass of milk. That's all I really need..." In the bSooty of an eye Lyra found her two simple requests tottering towards her on a simple wooden tray. It took just as long for Lyra to devour her food, for she had been much hungrier than she previously thought.

"Would you like more?" the same house elf asked.

"No, I'd better not overdo it," Lyra replied, setting her tray down. "I still want to fit into my dress robes." Lyra laughed.

The house elves went on their way preparing food for the day's meals. They seemed uninhibited by Lyra's presence.

"Now, now, Lyra. Are we making friends with servants, too?" Lucius's drawing voice shook the room. The house elves stopped what they were doing and stood to his attention.

"No, I was hungry. I hadn't eaten in days," Lyra replied, somewhat scathingly.

"Go back to your work! Did I tell you to stop?" Lucius spat at the attentive house elves. A chorus of "Yes, Master Malfoy" rang throughout the room.

"I don't understand you, Lyra. You claim to be on our side, but your motives are muddy. You are either with us or with Harry Potter. The Dark Lord is not merciful to traitors."

Had the conversation topic been different Lyra would have been apt to laugh at Lucius's dress: he was wearing a bright blue night shirt and a white night cap, his hair pulled back into a simple, low ponytail. His white, fuzzy slippers matched his night cap, and his wand appeared to be nowhere in sight. For a man so proper and regal as Lucius Malfoy, his current state was laughable.

"I am not siding with Harry Potter. He is a fool-" Lucius raised his chin and smiled, "-that I do not wish to side with. I do, however, feel some sense of compassion. I will not allow innocent bystanders become victims to _you__r _agenda. Minerva McGonagall is too talented a teacher and witch to die for a sad excuse of a Minister of Magic. Cornelius Fudge is dead, is he not?"

Lucius looked curiously at Lyra, who was now standing up. The armchair had vanished.

"He is."

"Good. Who is Minister now?"

"Amycus Carrow," Lucius replied.

Lyra smirked. "A bold and somewhat surprising decision. I would have guessed an Imperiused Auror or Department of Mysteries worker myself."

"The Dark Lord has his motives. I do not question. Neither should you."

"I do not, just expressing my surprise." Lyra stared into the cold blue eyes of Lucius Malfoy. The two stood in silence for a long while.

"So, are you going to keep me in suspense or do I have to ask the big question myself?" Lyra said coldly.

At last, her cold and distant feelings for her uncle began to bubble to the surface.

"My mother was there, the night you nearly killed me. I saw her. Don't try and lie to me, Lucius," Lyra said in his silence.

"What?" he said wildly. The house elves jumped and his night cap had fallen off and landed softly at his feet.

"You're just delaying our reuniting," Lyra said offhandedly. "I don't think my mum would be too happy to learn you lied to her. What'd she go to Azkaban in the first place? Oh yeah, the Cruciatus Curse. What a shame, Lucius. I wouldn't want her to use that on you. You might end up in St. Mungo's like the Longbottoms."

"How _dare_ you… I rescued you from that damn orphanage… I have allowed you to live in _my_ home…"

Lyra rolled her eyes. "Please, spare me the guilt trip. I probably would have found my back eventually. Durmstrang was going to expel me anyway."

"Expel you? For what?"

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you." Lyra's eyes, now lit by the small fire to her right, glistened with malice. The door to the kitchen opened once more, and now Narcissa stood in the entryway. She appeared to have been woken quite quickly and with a start. She was not nearly as prepared as Lucius. Her wand was nowhere near, she had no slippers, and her hair was disheveled.

"I'm sure I can persuade my mother to go easy on you. She does have a nasty temper from what I've heard, but maybe she'll be so glad to see me she might just curse you into next month, if you're lucky. But perhaps not. Us Blacks… we are tempered women," Lyra said.

"Is that a threat?" Lucius asked, taking one step closer.

Lyra saw his set and moved up two more of her own. "No, that is a promise."

"Get out of my house," Lucius seethed through his teeth.

"Lucius, no!" Narcissa said.

"She is not welcome here. I want her out, Narcissa. I should have left her to rot in that Muggle orphanage!"

"Voldemort came from a Muggle orphanage too and look how he turned out. Can you risk it, Lucius?" Lyra taunted.

"GET OUT!" Lucius bellowed.

"With pleasure," Lyra replied, sweeping to curtsey. Lucius made a sound of frustration and Narcissa looked horrified. His wand was still pointed at Lyra as she made her way, quite quickly, seeing as she was still sporting a very weak body, up the stairs and into her room. She packed everything, without discrimination, into her Hogwarts trunk. A swish of her wand, and Lyra was wearing her school robes. Another swish, and her trunk was airborne.

Lucius stood, watching, as Lyra made her way out on to the front lawn. The air was chilly and Lyra could see every sharp outtake of breath. Her feet made the snow crunch at her feet. Lyra made her way out of Lucius's sight and near the road. Allowing her trunk to rest on the gravel, Lyra pointed out her wand. Soon enough, a loud humming sound came closer, and within seconds a large red triple-decker bus had stopped in front of her.

A young man, barely older than Lyra, stepped off the bus and onto the gravel. He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket, cleared his throat, and began to read.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus. All your transportation needs for the stranded witch or-"

"I know, I know. Just get me out of here!" Lyra handed the young man twenty sickles and floated her trunk onto the bus. She sat in the back on an old blue and gray armchair. With a loud _bang!_ Lyra felt as if she was in a long side-along Apparation; she was going to be sick.

"Next stop, The Leaky Cauldron!" the man who greeted her cried. What seemed like an eternity had passed, the bus lurched, and Lyra found herself outside the Leaky Cauldron in London . She had heard about this place from Draco, it apparently led to Diagon Alley. But Lyra would not stop here for a room, she felt there was another please she was obligated to go.

"Where you goin'?" The greeter's name was Stan Shunpike.

"Well, I don't know where it is, exactly… but I know the address," Lyra added.

"Let's here it, then," he said impatiently.

" 103 Benton Place ," Lyra replied. She half-expected him not to know where she was talking about, but to her surprise, he did. A quick nod and Stan had gone back to the front of the bus, whispered something to the driver, and another quick _bang_, they were off once more.

Lyra had braced herself for the uncomfortable ride but still felt it pulling at her weakened body. Lyra made a mental note to learn Apparation and to _never_, under any circumstance, ride the Knight Bus again. Her eyes closed tight, Lyra lurched again as the bus drew to a stop. She found herself waiting outside the house she had visited what seemed like years ago with Narcissa. Shakily thanking the driver and Stan, Lyra got off the bus. It disappeared into the darkness, leaving only Lyra and an empty house. A fresh intake of cold air seemed to waken her senses. Lyra opened the iron gate (_I'll have to fix that_, she thought to herself), walked up the front lawn, opened the door, and set down her trunk into the place she would now have to call home.

With no house elves attending to the home it was very chilly, but a quick wave of the wand fixed the problem; there was soon a lovely fire raging in the living room fireplace. It had occurred to Lyra that she had only seen this room and the room of her mother. Perhaps, in the morning, she would explore the house that had once been home. Tonight was not the night, however. It was much too light and little would get accomplished. Shivering, Lyra located a few moth eaten blankets in an old chest next to the fireplace. She would sleep on the couch tonight, next to the firelight. Lyra dared not divulge her deepest fear of the dark, even to herself. Within a matter of moments Lyra had fallen asleep next to the roar of the fire.

She awoke the next morning, shivering. The fire had died sometime during the night and the blankets had been kicked to the floor. It was the first time Lyra was completely and utterly alone. She had not learned to cook for herself; that was done by the orphanage and later the house elves. Another flick of her wand and the fire was going again, chasing out the winter cold. Draping the blanket around her, Lyra followed the door in the back of the room into the kitchen. It was nothing compared to the kitchen at the Malfoy Manor; it had no formal dining room, the table was seating in the middle of the room with six chairs surrounding it. Lyra ran to the cupboards and found nothing but cobwebs and dust.

"All this money and blood purity and I can't even get a decent house elf?" Lyra said to herself. She had barely finished her sentence when she heard a loud_ crack!_, causing her to jump in alarm. To her immediate left she saw three house elves. One was very young, wearing nothing but a white pillowcase. This one was a girl, because it had a very ugly bow made out of old string in her hair. The other two were much older, one very old, it looked as if it had served at the House of Black when her mother and sisters were young.

"Mistress Lestrange, we are here to serve you," the eldest said. "I is Sooty, miss, and this is Mabel-" he pointed to the older female house elf to his left, "-and this is Lenny. We are here to serve the most ancient and noble house of Black." The house elves bowed to their master.

"Were you here when my mother was?" Lyra asked suspiciously.

"Of course, Miss. I served your mother," Sooty replied. "I is been in this family for generations." Sooty smiled, lopsided. He had many teeth missing, but sounded fairly coherent for a house elf.

"Excellent. Well… I'm new to this whole 'Mistress' thing. I don't know the house very well. Would you please show me around? And I don't know how to get food or anything. I have no money…"

"Not a problem, Miss!" Mabel squealed in delight. Her voice was quite high pitched, like an annoying whistle. "You have money left by Master Cygnus! He left it for the Black heir who owned this house!"

"I don't own this house. Narcissa does, and her husband just disowned me," Lyra said. "I just need a place to stay."

"You asked for a house elf, didn't you?" Sooty said. "You asked for a house elf and Sooty came."

It took Lyra a few moments to completely comprehend the idea. "So, because I asked for a house elf, I own the house? I thought this place didn't have any."

"Oh, the Blacks have house elves, Miss. When Mistress Narcissa and Master Lucius got married the house elves went to Master Lucius. We is here from Malfoy Manor," Sooty replied.

"This is nuts," Lyra said as she found herself on a proper house tour. Just off of the kitchen, to the right, was an old study with two bookcases put up against the back wall. There was also a door with no handle or lock on it. None of the house elves knew how to get in, and Lyra shuddered to think what would behind such a door.

From there, Lyra went upstairs and explored the other three bedrooms: Narcissa's, Andromeda's, and her grandparents'. It was an odd feeling to be given full reign of a very foreign house. Lyra was intruding upon the daily lives of those who were either died or long gone. Andromeda's room was very messy; it looked as if she had simply stepped out of the room for a moment and would be back any second. The bed was still unmade, a trunk was open at the foot of her bed and spell books were everywhere. The only peculiarity was the lack of clothes; the wardrobe was wide open and all that remained were a few items of clothing.

Narcissa's room was the tidiest of them all. A large silver and green snake twisted about the room, coming together at the large Slytherin crest on the wall directly above where Narcissa's head would be. There was an old picture of a very young Narcissa and Lucius on the bed-side table.

"When did my grandparents die?" Lyra asked Sooty.

"Oh, before Mistress was born!" Sooty cried. His large eyes began to well with tears. He blew his nose on his pillowcase outfit.

"Okay, well I'm going to sleep in my mother's room, Sooty. Would you mind moving my things up there? And I need to go into London. Where do I get my money?"

Sooty bowed to Lyra and left the room. He went into Cygnus and Druella's room, rummaged through a drawer, and came back with a large golden key. Lyra smiled, and her happiness pleased Cooty.

"Is this house connected to the Floo Network?" Lyra asked. Sooty nodded.

Encouraged by her good fortune, Lyra changed her clothes and went to the fireplace. In a small plant pot were ashes, which Lyra would use to travel by the Floo Network. Taking a handful of ash, she stood in the fireplace, said "Diagon Alley" very clearly, threw the ash down, and soon found herself in a maze of people.

Her first stop would be Gringotts. She had been there only once, with Narcissa, but it had only taken two steps into the building for Lyra to realize she detested the place. She did not trust goblins and knew the distrusted the Wizarding race. Taking the key out of her pocket, Lyra went to the first open counter she saw.

"Name?" The goblin asked.

"Well... I'm Lyra Lestrange. I am here to open the vault of Cygnus and Druella Black," Lyra replied shakily. She put the key on the counter for the goblin to examine. He gave her an odd sort of look, as if she wasn't supposed to exist. He whispered something to the goblin next to him, who then in turn stared at Lyra. She gulped.

"This way please," the goblin finally said. Lyra followed the goblin to a cart. She sat down, shivering as the cold metal touched her skin. She knew it would just get colder. The time Lyra ventured to the Malfoy vault it was held deep in the heart of Gringotts, miles underground and guarded by two very large trolls. With a jolt, Lyra felt herself holding on for dear life as she raced down the track. It took nearly twenty minutes to reach her vault, and when she finally arrived she was very surprised to see a very large dragon guarding the vault.

"Key please," the goblin said. He was already out of the cart and walking toward the dragon. The dragon seemed oblivious to the goblin's presence, and Lyra's too, she noticed, as she got out of the cart. Keeping a maximum distance away from the dragon at all times, Lyra watched as the goblin turned the key in the lock. A sound of clangs from the friction of metal was soon heard, and the door to the vault opened very slowly.

In the very middle of the vault was a large pile of gold Galleons. Next to that, two nearly equal piles of Sickles and Knuts. This was only the beginning of the vault, however. There was a large amount of room behind this money. Putting just enough money into her leather money pouch for the next few days, Lyra made her way around the piles of money. Behind it were mounds of furniture and family heirlooms. There was a bench with two blast marks where a butt would have gone; Lyra made sure not to touch it. A self-playing piano played softly in the corner. During her Durmstrang years, Lyra had heard of a similar piano: anyone besides the owner of the piano would be sucked in and become part of the music. That's how it was self playing, the poor souls would play from the inside. Shuddering from the coldness, Lyra decided she must go back to Diagon Alley.

Another very uncomfortable twenty minute ride and Lyra was back up on surface level. She thanked the goblin and hurried out of Gringotts. Despite the winter coldness, Lyra was thankful to be outside again. She looked around Diagon Alley and suddenly realized the _pang_ in her stomach was trying to tell her something.

Lyra had missed Christmas.

She had been unconscious for the festivities, and when she awoke she was thrown out of the house. Any remnants of Christmas had long since been taken down and all that was left was the cold and the snow. Lyra had turned left and gone into Eeylops Owl Emporium. She was greeted by the strong smell of animal dung and straw. The screech owls were going crazy in the corner, apparently upset over a small mouse.

"Can I help you?"a witch in a tall black hat asked. She rushed forward, her robes speckled with bits of straw and owl dung, and nearly ran over Lyra with a large cage. She took it to the front of the store and set it down on the floor.

"Well, I wantto buy an owl. The best you have," Lyra said prominently. The witch rolled her eyes, but Lyra did not notice.

"Eagle owls are our strongest breed. Deadly reliable. They travel long distances quite well," the witch said, pointing to easily the largest cage in the store. It was filled with amber colored owls.

"I'll take one," Lyra said. "How much are they?"

"20 Galleons for the biggest. I've got a runt I'll give you a discount on. Poor breed. It might die early, but I'll give it to you for ten," the witch said. She pulled out the smallest owl in the cage. It looked like a bald baby, but Lyra instantly fell in love with it the moment she saw its two different colored eyes.

"I want it," Lyra said, smiling brightly. She paid for her owl, and took it out of the store in a white cage. Her owl, afemale, had been named 'Artemis'. Feeling her stomach rumble, Lyra made her way to the Leaky Cauldron. It was eerily empty when she entered except for an old vampire sitting at the bar. He looked at Lyra strangely but did not make any motion to move.

She sat in a booth across from the bar and put Artemis directly across from her.Pulling out the menu from the napkin holder, her eyes gazed the long menu of cuisine,whichincluded raw liver and blood juice.

"What do yeh want?" her waiter said gruffly.

"Just cheese soup, please," Lyra said, slightly cowering in her seat. He glared at her before leaving.

Lyra scooted closer to her owl. "I swear, Artemis. People these days..."

"Talking to yourself? That's a sign of madness, you know," a loud voice said behind her. Half-expecting it to be the vampire at the bar, Lyra made sure she had a firm grip on her wand before turning around. But it wasn't the vampire, it was Professor Snape.

"Sir, I didn't expect you to be here," Lyra said, standing up. She bumped the table on her way up, which in turn hit Artemis's cage. The owl began to screech loudly. Professor Snape raised his eyebrow.

Lyra clamoredto move her owl to her side of the table so her teacher could sit down.

"What are you doing here? I highly doubt Lucius sent you," Lyra said.

"On the contrary. Your mother did," he said.

Lyra stared at Professor Snape. "My mother?" The words poured out slowly, like molasses out of a jar.

"Lucius has made it no secret you are no longer welcome in his house. Bellatrix found out, and was unable to come here herself-"

"I don't care what she has to say. She did nothing to rescueme that night in the restaurant," Lyra said harshly. "I am tired of her middle-men tactics, Professor. She has made no contactwith me despite her knowledge of my desire. She was there the night I nearly died."

"You speak so soon, Miss... Lestrange," Snape said carefully. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of parchment. "A letter, from your mother." He placed it on the table in front of Lyra.

Professor Snape stood up. "It is your choice on whether you read it. I could not care less. I will see you in two days."

"Thank you, sir," Lyra replied, sighing.

He put his hand on Lyra's left shoulder. "And, for the record, you made a wise decision by not attacking Minerva McGonagall."

"Did she make it out okay?" Lyra asked.

Snape laughed quite acidicly. "Of course she did."

He was gone, his black robes billowing behind him. Lyra fingered the letter tenderly, as if she would break it. Her soup had come but Lyra did not eat. She stared at her letter. The envelope was sealed in a hurry, it was not completely closed.

Swallowing, Lyra opened the letter and began to read.


	12. Love, Mum

Chapter 12: Love, Mum_  
_

_  
To Lyra,_

_No doubt you are furious with me, as I am quite positive you have inherited the Black temper. Your life has not gone according to plan, with a large thanks to __Lucius__Malfoy__. But, I feel I owe you an explanation. After your father and I were sentenced to Azkaban, I asked __Lucius__ and __Narcissa__ to raise you as a pureblood witch. The Blacks and the __Malfoys__ are two ancient and well-respected __wizarding__ families. It has come to my attention that __Lucius__ did not follow through on his end. I would _never_ allow any daughter of mine to be raised by __Muggles__ or taught by that traitor Igor __Karkaroff__. While I am pleased you received an excellent Dark Arts education at __Durmstrang__, I am horrified to hear rumors of what happened between you and __Karkaroff__. He has been taken care __of,__ as I'm sure you've heard. __Lucius__ will receive punishment for his actions, be sure of that. I heard of your involvement at the __Hogsmeade__ incident earlier in the year and was quite disappointed in your choice of loyalty. However, the young and foolish are expected to make mistakes. __The __Dark Lord disposed of Cornelius __Fudge and I am very proud of you for helping.__ I would have taken you home with me that very night, but the Dark Lord had work for me to finish. _

_I promise we will meet as soon as possible. Do not lose hope; I have not forgotten my only child. _

_Love, __Mum_

Lyra suddenly became aware she was sobbing as her tears hit the table. Her soup was cold now, so she pushed it aside. She quickly scanned the messy letter once more, noting how easily this letter could have been written by her own hand, the 'A's and the 'G's, respectively. Lucius harbored a burning hatred for Lyra, one he had managed to keep for a very long time. But the truth was out now, out for everyone to see.

Tucking the letter safely into her pocket, Lyra grabbed her owl and headed for home. It was nearly four o'clock when she reached Benton Place. The light had already begun to get dim. It would be another lonely night before the start of second term. Unlocking the door, Lyra entered the home to see a blonde figure sitting on the couch, sipping a cup of tea.

At the sound of the closing door, Narcissa turned around. Her eyes had large bags underneath them and the wrinkles on her forehead spoke tales of worry. Her appearance did not surprise Lyra. Underneath the Malfoy cliché of money and pure-blood politics, Narcissa Malfoy was one of the most caring and devoted people Lyra had ever met.

"Lyra, I was so worried about you. This was the last place I checked… I was so relieved…" Narcissa set her cup of tea down and stood up.

Lyra set down her cage. "Well, here I am. I didn't really know where else to go…" She moved towards the couch, but sat down in the armchair directly across from the fireplace. "I really didn't _have_ anywhere else to go..."

"I wrote to Severus hoping you'd gone back to Hogwarts-"

"He found me today. He delivered me this," Lyra said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the letter. Without emotion, she threw it on the table in front of the couch Narcissa was sitting upon.

Without opening it, Narcissa spoke. "She contacted you."

Lyra nodded. Sooty was now entering the room carrying a serving tray. Despite his age, he held the large wooden tray quite still. It contained a single, petal-decorated cup with steam arising from the top. Without a word, he put the tray down on the table and left the room, leaving just as quietly as his entrance. What a good house elf, he was.

The two sat in silence for a long while. Lyra had just finished counting the brick tiles in the fireplace (there were sixty-six) when she finally spoke.

"It seemed so much real when she wrote to me. About this whole situation, I mean. She knew Lucius sent me away. She's furious," Lyra said. She took a big sip of her tea and allowed it to burn her throat.

"My sister is highly intelligent. I have not spoken with her since the summer. There is no doubt she figured it out on her own. Lucius and Severus send her weekly letters, updating her on your life," Narcissa said. "I'm sure one of them has inadvertently told her."

"I don't understand one thing, Narcissa. Didn't she get suspicious that the letters only started this year?" Lyra asked.

"Of course not. My sister had been in Azkaban for years. The letters started immediately after her escape. When you're in Azkaban…you receive no incoming mail. You cannot send mail. You are nothing in Azkaban." Narcissa shuddered, allowing images of the prison to fill her head.

"I'm not coming back to the Manor, if that's what you're here to ask me," Lyra said.

Narcissa laughed. "Lucius does not want you back. I think you are safer here. This is your home now, I see you even have house elves."

"Three of them. You remember Sooty? Well, he works for me now. I'm afraid you've lost a house elf."

"Is he still living? I remember Lucius taking him to work at the manner, but I haven't seen him in _years_. Although, I do suppose it is the mark of a good house elf…"

More silence. Tonight would not be the night Narcissa stood up for her husband. Lyra did not feel like listening to her aunt drone on about what a wonderful man Lucius was and the pride he felt for his family. It made her want to vomit.

"I suppose you should go. Lucius might have you sent to Azkaban for aiding and abetting a fugitive. Although, it really wouldn't do any good seeing as the Dementors are no longer guarding it," Lyra mused.

"Do not be brash, Lyra. It does not suit you," Narcissa said, standing up. "Would you like me to escort you to the train on Sunday?"

"If you wish. Since Draco _apparently_ needs no license to Apparate underage, he can manage himself. I'm still dead weight."

"Very well. I will be here at ten-thirty. Please be ready," Narcissa said.

"I will. Good night, Narcissa," Lyra said. With a polite nod, her aunt was gone and Lyra was along once more. She sipped her tea quietly, tracing the outside edges of the mug with her index finger. The letter was still on the table where Narcissa refused to touch it. It was like a cursed necklace in Borgin and Burkes no one wanted to acknowledge. Lyra watched the fire until it had nearly died out. Once the winter coldness had hit her once more, she decided to turn in.

The next day was nothing more than Lyra packing up her things and moving the letter around the house so it would be near to her location. She never opened it, she hadn't since the first time she read it, but somehow its presence calmed her, as if her mother had been in the room right there with her. It was a promise for a real family and a promise for reuniting.

Narcissa had come precisely at ten-thirty on Sunday morning. The sky had been a dark shade of gray since the previous afternoon. It couldn't decide whether or not to snow and the resulting indecision caused the coldest day of winter yet. Traveling back to Hogwarts was not a glorious affair; rather it was a long, uneventful train ride.

The arrival back couldn't come soon enough and the instant the train had stopped Lyra had been one of the first off. She had the first carriage back to the castle, and within no time was she sitting in the Slytherin Common Room. Even though Lyra could count Benton Place, and even to some extent the Malfoy Manor, her residence, Hogwarts had always felt like home.

"And _then_ I said, 'oh please, do I really want to look like a Muggle?' You should have seen what he tried to give me," drawled Draco. His voice carried down the stone walls of the dungeon. He walked in with Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy, who were laughing loudly at Draco's joke. He stopped, quite suddenly, at Lyra's presence in the room. Crabbe and Goyle ran into Draco, causing him to nearly fall over.

"So, you've decided to come back," Draco said stiffly.

"Apparently," Lyra replied.

He scowled at her, wanting to say something, but thought better at the last moment. He walked off to the boys dormitory with Crabbe and Goyle, leaving Pansy behind.

"He's mad at you, you know," Pansy taunted, taking a seat by the fire.

"Yes, I realize," Lyra replied, not looking up from the book she was reading.

"So his dad kicked you out, then? It's really true?" Pansy asked.

"It's really true," Lyra responded in the same manner. Twenty questions was never her favorite game. Pansy shrieked with delight.

"So where did you stay? Did you have to live with Muggles? Draco said you've got no family left!"

Lyra threw her head back and laughed. "Is that what Draco told you? Well, I do suppose it is the blind leading the blind. You really should check your information."

"Well, where did you stay then?" Pansy asked, tapping her foot lightly on the stone floor.

"My grandparents' house. I guess Draco never told you who my parents were—are. I suppose you know of Rudolphus and _Bellatrix_ Lestrange?"

Pansy shrieked. Whatever conversations were going on in the Common Room had ceased and looked at Pansy and Lyra. "She's your _mum?_ She's _your_ mum?"

"Did I stutter? I believe that's what I just said," Lyra replied calmly.

Pansy opened and closed her mouth several times, but then suddenly decided what Lyra had just said deeply offended her, and rushed off to her dormitory. Lyra rolled her eyes.

"So it's true then. Lyra Lestrange," a fifth-year spoke up.

"I didn't realize we were in a Muggle zoo, Fredericks. Quiet ogling and perhaps do something more… constructive," Lyra replied. "Go find a Gryffindor to cure, I don't care."

Getting the hint, the dirty-blond boy did not bother Lyra again. In fact, the room was relatively quiet for the rest of the night. Whether or not they were scared of Lyra was unknown. The Common Room had emptied very quickly, leaving Lyra to be the last soul in the room. She had gone to bed well past midnight, hours after the room had gone completely quiet.

The morning came too early and the day's classes did not look promising. A double Potions followed by Transfiguration with the Gryffindors was what Lyra had to look forward to. She had taken a spot next to Pansy at the Slytherin table during breakfast Pansy turned up her nose and turned her back to Lyra.

Sighing, Lyra stabbed the toast she was supposed to be buttering. It slowly became bread crumbs over the course of the passing minutes. The teachers were beginning to leave their seats now, a token sign the bell was going to ring and the first class was going to begin. Pushing away her toast and taking a last swig of her orange juice, Lyra threw her bag over her shoulder and followed Professor Snape down to the dungeons.

"Sir, wait! Professor!" Lyra panted, trying to catch up with the billowing black robes. He turned slightly, inviting her to attempt to catch up, but continued on his brisk path to the classroom. It took five large steps for her to match his stride and she was panting heavily when she finally did.

"Listen, about the other day," Lyra panted. "My mum. The letter. How did you know? You must've met with her or seen her or had some contact with her-"

The two had reached the dungeon, but Professor Snape did not slow his pace. The door opened with a flick of his wand and he continued into the dark and damp room.

"Did she mention _anything_ about when she would see me? Does she even plan to? What about my father? There was nothing in the letter about him!"

Professor Snape turned on his heel and made every word perfectly clear. "Did someone hit you with a Confundus charm, Miss Lestrange? I have no idea what letter you are talking about." He glared at her once more and went into the storeroom, the door slamming shut behind him. The bell had rung the instant the door slammed shut, and Professor Snape did not emerge from his hiding room until it had rung again to signal the start of class.

The room filled very slowly, people trickling in one or two at a time. The bell had nearly rung when Draco was the last to come in. He sat in his seat next to Lyra but ignored her. He faced Crabbe, who was to his right, and resumed their conversation.

"Draco, I know you're mad at me, but this is bloody insane!" Lyra hissed.

Draco pretended not to hear his cousin and continued with his conversation. Professor Snape had emerged from the storeroom and was now lecturing the class on the importance of their new assignment.

"A Calming Draught, if made too strong, can cause eternal sleep. It is essential that you follow the instructions," Professor Snape was saying. "Your instructions are on page 174. The ingredients are in the cupboard. You may begin." A wave of his wand and the storeroom was open. There was a mad rush to get the best ingredients. Draco had pushed and shoved his way through, being the first to accumulate his needed ingredients, which included glumbumble parts and powdered horn.

Lyra attempted to concentrate on the instructions before her. She was never particularly talented at Potions. It required much more focus and patience that Transfiguration or Dark Arts. In those classes you could practice until you got something right. Potions just came naturally to everyone _but_ Lyra.

It was halfway through the double-class period and Lyra's Calming Draught was now a dark green instead of a misty blue shimmer. Professor Snape walked past her bubbling cauldron and stopped.

"Miss Lestrange, would you please explain to me how you have managed to turn your potion this color despite following the directions?" he sneered.

"I don't know sir," Lyra replied. It looked like a green glob of mud… and smelled like it, too.

Her potion vanished with a wave of Professor Snape's wand. Draco sniggered behind his cauldron.

"Detention, Miss Lestrange. See me after class," he said and walked away.

The remaining class period seemed to inch by. Lyra began to count the stones that made up the south wall (five hundred and twelve) and when that task had finished, she stared at the directions on the front board. The Calming Draught was an immensely difficult potion that required work up until the end of class. Lyra watched as Professor Snape took small beakers and took samples of everyone's potions. Lyra smiled to herself as Malfoy's potion had cracked the glass it was behind held in; Professor Snape glared at Malfoy.

The bell rang, and as everyone began to pack up their things and leave, Lyra slowly made her way to Professor Snape's desk. He waited until the class had cleared out to acknowledge her presence in front of him. The door closed suddenly, causing Lyra to jump. She smiled nervously.

"Sit," he instructed.

Lyra sat in the rickety wooden chair that now levitating a few inches above the ground. Lyra sat down and she felt the chair sink to the ground.

"I don't know what happened, sir. I just- my potion- I mean, I did everything _right_," Lyra began.

"I'm not going to waste my time talking about your abysmal potion making," he said, putting up his hand to stop her. "That is unimportant at the moment."

"If you've kept me here to talk about Lucius, I don't-"

"Do not speak unless instructed, Miss Lestrange." His tone was venomous.

Lyra fell silent, unable to look her potions master in the eye. She suddenly became aware she was now wearing shoes and looked intently at them.

"The only reason I delivered the letter was because it would look rather odd for an escaped Death Eater to come waltzing into the Leaky Cauldron. Have you mentioned the incident to anyone?" he asked.

"Just Narcissa.," Lyra said.

Professor Snape nodded. "I am going to instruct you to keep this incident to yourself. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir," Lyra replied.

"I want a foot and a half of parchment explaining each ingredient of Calming Draught and where you went wrong. It will be handed in tomorrow, understood?"

"Yes sir."

"Now get to class. Transfiguration next? Tell Professor McGonagall you were with me. I will contact her later for confirmation."

Without a word, Lyra walked out of the Potions classroom. The prospect of writing anything about Potions was daunting, let alone to have it done for tomorrow. Lyra didn't even _have_ Potions tomorrow. There would be more Transfiguration work on top of that, no doubt. Following her meeting with Professor Snape, it took Lyra nearly ten minutes to get from the dungeons to the Transfiguration classroom on the fifth floor. Panting, Lyra opened the door to the classroom and found the class hard at work.

Professor McGonagall had evidently already given them their assignments for the remaining part of the class. Each person was quietly writing at their desks, sometimes pausing to look at their book, and then looking back again at their parchment. Lyra's footsteps seemed magnified by at least three times their sound as she made the way from the back of the classroom to the front. Professor McGonagall was sitting behind her desk, grading papers, when Lyra approached her.

"I was with Professor Snape. He says he will contact you later to confirm," Lyra said.

"Very well, Miss Lestrange. Your classmates are working on an essay on self transfiguration. The assignment is on the board. It is due next Thursday," Professor McGonagall said, returning to her previous work.

As Lyra sat in her seat next to a Patil twin (she always got them mixed up despite their difference in Houses), she glanced up at the board. She squinted to see the tiny writing: _Please explain, in three feet of parchment or less, the essential theory in human transfiguration. Include __the benefits and dangers of human transfiguration, including the spells and remedies for such. __Animagus__ information will be accepted but will not result in full points._

It wasn't a particularly difficult essay, but it would require several hours in the library to do the research. Assuming a comfortable position in her chair, Lyra opened her book to chapter 7, _Human Transfiguration_, and began to read. If anything, she might be able to scratch down a rough introduction.

The words seemed to blur together on the page, becoming tiny blotches of ink on Lyra's desk that made no sense at all. She tried to focus intently on the page, reading and re-reading the same opening passage on page one hundred and seven. _Human transfiguration is often a dangerous and daunting task to undertake. It requires at le__ast one year of solid practice to safely transfigure a human being…_

Despite having nearly the entire class period to work on her essay, the bell rang and Lyra had nothing written. Groaning, she shoved various pieces of parchment into her bag, put the cap on her ink bottle, grabbed her quills, and threw them on top of the parchment.

"Miss Lestrange, a word if you please," Professor McGonagall's voice rang through the noise of chatty students.

_The second time today_, Lyra thought. She gritted her teeth and made her way to McGonagall's desk.

"I'm glad to see you're not injured, Professor," Lyra said, attempting to break the awkward silence.

"Behavior like that will get you expelled from Hogwarts. _Never_ in my years of teaching have I seen such a blatant display of disrespect! In the name of Hogwarts! You were in _public_!" Professor McGonagall's voice shook the very room they were in.

"Well, where did it get me, Professor? Lucius kicked me out of the Malfoy Manor. For attempting to save _you_," Lyra spat.

Professor McGonagall sat up straight in her chair. "I am perfectly capable-"

Lyra laughed. "You'd think that, wouldn't you? Well see, Professor, they eat people like you for breakfast."

Professor McGonagall's lips were as thin as Lyra had ever seen them. Anger was boiling in her eyes.

"I did not duel you because I knew I would not win. I will not disagree with the power you possess… You are too talented to be wasted in the name of Cornelius Fudge." Lyra's voice rang on the last two words, _Cornelius Fudge_.

"What side are you on, Lyra?" Professor McGonagall's fingernails tapped the wood underneath her hands. Lyra had been braced for this question since she arrived at Hogwarts, yet no one had asked her. She was ready to answer.

"I side with my family," Lyra responded.

"Which is as good as siding with the Death Eaters! I taught both your parents and your extended family. I know what they all turned out to be!" Professor McGonagall replied.

"What, do you think I'm going to throw down and curse every Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw within sight one morning during breakfast?" Lyra asked, raising an eyebrow. She was half-joking, but the slight look of horror on McGonagall's face made Lyra realize that's _exactly_ what McGonagall was thinking.

"I urge you to watch your behavior, Miss Lestrange," Professor McGonagall warned.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Lyra mumbled.

"I will be alerting Professor Snape-"

"You do that."

"And Professor Dumbledore as well."

"Go right ahead."

Professor McGonagall and Lyra stared at each other for a long moment. Lyra looked as if she were about to say something so nasty her grandchildren would subsequently be in detention, but she thought better of it.

"Is that all, Professor?" Lyra asked. A nod of McGonagall's head was all Lyra needed to escape the Transfiguration classroom.

Lyra couldn't help but notice the grand irony in her situation: she had helped Lucius, and thus Voldemort, dispose of Fudge, allowing Voldemort to take over the Ministry of Magic. In return, she had been kicked out of the Malfoy Mansion faster than a mudblood. And now, Professor McGonagall, the woman she had attempted to "save" during Voldemort's raid, was putting a tail on her every move.

Professor McGonagall was right, as much as Lyra hated to admit it. She _must_ pick a side. Family was a foreign concept, made up for people like the Weasleys who crammed too many people into too small of a space. Lyra was going to pick a side, and she was sure it would bring her more trouble than it was worth.


	13. Soon

Chapter 13: Soon

Narcissa Malfoy pulled her black hood closer to the delicate skin on her face. She shivered; those European winds were harsh on even the toughest of bodies. The sun had long since hidden under the horizon and a darkness had now engulfed the tiny little seaside village Narcissa was at. Her pace quickened the closer she got the run-down little house at the end of the lane. The brass dragon door knocker was nearly falling off the wooden door, which itself was weather-worn and barely standing.

Carefully, Narcissa rapped on the door. She heard the rustle of movement inside the tiny house and the dark curtains swayed after an unknown person had brushed up against them. The door opened slowly, and from the darkness inside came a cloaked figure.

"Cissa?" the voice asked. The hooded figure revealed Bellatrix, her face pale and gaunt.

"We need to talk," Narcissa said simply, and pushed her way inside.

The living room was empty and dark; a sofa with a white sheet was up against the far wall. There was little light entering the room. Narcissa could make out the flint of candlelight coming in from the kitchen, but other than that, her eyes took several minutes to adjust to the lack of light.

"You can't be here," Bellatrix said softly. Her eyes glanced nervously up the dark stairwell. Despite Bellatrix's cold demeanor, Narcissa knew her sister was glad to see her even if the circumstances were less than favorable.

"Is Rudolphus here?" Narcissa asked quietly. Bellatrix shook her head no. A small look of triumph gleaned across Narcissa's face. Even if Rudolphus was here, his presence would not be a problem. His escape from Azkaban with his wife was glorious—even poetic—but his life outside the prison was nothing more than a field mouse. The years inside the prison had driven him insane.

"Please, what are you up to?" Bellatrix asked, her hand growing closer to the wand she hid in her back pocket.

"We're going to Hogwarts. Tonight."

-----

It wasn't the fact that students would barely look Lyra in the eye, or the fact that teachers would constantly go out of their way to keep Lyra in their line of sight at all times, to show Lyra that something in the air was amiss. It began in Transfiguration on Tuesday when the Patil twin Lyra always sat next to attempted to switch seats with a Slytherin, who promptly told her no. She had just barely sat in her seat, edged interestingly as far away as possible from Lyra, when Professor McGonagall walked into class, looking flushed as though she had just been in a small scuffle.

Her eyes peered at Lyra on her way by and remained as such throughout the entire class. This constant watch continued throughout the rest of the day: Professor Snape barely touched his soup during lunch, as he was so transfixed on Lyra's ability to write on parchment.

"Draco, really, what is going on?" Lyra finally managed to whisper during lunch. Her cousin stole a glance up at the High Table before answering.

"It appears to me like they're watching you. What have you done?" he asked snidely.

"Absolutely nothing, except for being the daughter of Bellatrix Lestrange," Lyra replied.

Draco shrugged and went back to laughing with Crabbe and Goyle. Sighing, Lyra finally slammed shut her Potions book and stomped off to the library, hoping to find a quiet corner.

In the very back left corner she found an old green armchair with no sign of human life within several hundred feet. Propping open her Potions book against her legs, she began to read. It took a grand total of five minutes until Lyra could hear three distinct voices carrying on her way. The voices settled on the other side of the book shelf, where Lyra could hear their every word without being seen.

"Really, Ron, do you think You-Know-Who would come to Hogwarts? Haven't you ever read _Hogwarts, A History_?"

"I don't need to read that _bloody_ book to know that he's going to come here! It's all starting to make sense," Ron replied, his voice shivering on the last syllable. Papers rustled and Lyra could barely make out the whispers that took the place of the voices.

"There's no other reason Mafalda Hopkirk would have gone missing. Voldemort has control over the Ministry. We're sitting in the last stronghold! It's only a matter of time before the Death Eaters take over Hogwarts, too." There was a hint of significant sacredness in Hermione's voice; Lyra could feel it from across the room.

For a second, time seemed to stand still as Lyra held her breath, waiting for the next person to speak. It was a very pregnant minute before Harry finally broke the silence. His words were slow and carefully chosen.

"Then we fight. All of us. We will fight."

-----

The light in Bellatrix Lestrange's room was dim despite her glowing wand on her bedside. Tonight's movements would have to be quick and precise as to minimize the intrusion of any unwanted visitors on the reunion of a mother and daughter. Narcissa had taken the necessary precautions in regards to Hogwarts: Severus had been contacted and had been instructed to keep his eye on Lyra all day. Narcissa was sure he had instructed other staff members to do the same without informing them as to why they need do so. They happily obliged, however, allowing Snape to breathe easier.

A tiny knock once more at Bella's door and Narcissa walked in, this time a little more briskly. The expression on her face was now distorted to create an unfamiliar mix of frustration and joy. Bella's hands shook as pulled the cloak closer to her body.

"Are you ready?" Narcissa asked.

Bella nodded. It was now or never. Taking one last glance at a person she had come to not recognize in the mirror, Bella took Narcissa's outstretched hand and the two Disapparated into the black abyss of night. They came swirling down nearly a quarter-mile from Hogsmeade. The two witches landed gracefully on compact snow beneath their feet.

The lights of the shops had long since been turned down and the haunting footsteps of Narcissa and Bellatrix were all that echoed off the stone walls of the buildings. Even in the winter darkness, the ominous looming shadow of Hogwarts was a constant reminder to the battle Bellatrix faced in finding her daughter. So much separated their flesh; so little bonded it. Even now Bellatrix was unsure if Lyra wanted to see her. Lyra had been aware of her heritage for a while now, and she had done nothing to seek out her parents.

_Get a grip on yourself_, Bellatrix warned herself. She had no time to waste on worrying. That was not in her nature. Smirking, Bellatrix took the lead and the sisters walked solemnly up the castle. It wasn't a very long walk, but the darkness seemed to shroud their every step in a thick blanket. As they met the stone gargoyles at the front entrance, Bellatrix and Narcissa were met by one Severus Snape. His face was more lined than Narcissa had remembered at their last meeting; his eyes were full in sadness and despair. A simple flick of Snape's wand and the gates were beginning to open for their unwanted visitors.

For Bellatrix, this was her first step inside the castle since she had graduated so many years ago. It didn't seem as daunting as it did her first night sleeping in the wondrous castle… she remembered her experience like it was yesterday.

Professor McGonagall greeted the first years at the entrance; they were all sopping wet and had the distinct smell of wild dogs. There was a rowdy group of boys in the back of the group Professor McGonagall had to scold before leading the larger-than-usual group of first years into the Great Hall. There were four large tables, each filled with eagle-eyed students wondering which of the tiny runts would have the luck of being able to call themselves a part of that house. The Slytherins smirked as Bellatrix walked by, her eye catching a pair of sharp brown eyes seated next to an empty seat. He had a rough look to him, as if he had just won a fight with a centaur. His dirt brown hair was in a large pile on top his head. He just looked… rough.

Professor McGonagall sat an old hat on top of a three-legged stool. Half-expecting McGonagall to be joking, Bellatrix was surprised when she was told to put the hat on top her head. The first student, a small young red-head named Tempest Ackles, walked slowly up to the chair and with a look of horror on her face, put the hat on her head. It began to speak through a rip in the brim, causing the poor girl to nearly fall off the chair in fright. Professor McGonagall swept forward, making sure Tempest Ackles never fell off the stool. When the hat finally cried, "HUFFLEPUFF!", there was a loud round of applause from the Hufflepuff table where Tempest Ackles took her seat.

Looking less afraid, the next student ("BALE, FREDERICK!") walked up to the stool and jammed the hat on his head. Within seconds, he was walking to the Gryffindor table in all smiles.

"BLACK, BELLATRIX!"

Smiling, Bellatrix walked up to the stool. Her eyes caught the headmaster's, whose twinkle had suddenly left his eyes the second they made contact. Bellatrix wasn't sure of the exact expression she saw on his face, but to her, it seemed like fear.

Narcissa had barely picked up the hat when it cried, "SLYTHERIN!" causing her to drop the hat in shock. The Great Hall burst into laughter as Bellatrix fumbled to pick up the hat and place it back on the stool. She ran over to the Slytherin table, her face white-hot in embarrassment, and took a seat next to the boy she had seen on her way in.

"I'm Rudolphus Lestrange," he said, sticking out his hand for Bellatrix to shake. "Second year."

"Bellatrix Black," she had replied.

He smiled. "I already know who you are." Bellatrix and Rudolphus didn't talk again until "MALFOY, LUCIUS!" had joined their table. The Malfoys and the Blacks had a long history together, and it wasn't until Bellatrix introduced Lucius to Rudolphus did she realize that her future was finally forming.

"Does the Dark Lord know you are here?" Severus asked, pausing to open the front doors.

"What the Dark Lord does not know will not hurt him," Bellatrix replied, raising her head. Her task tonight was dangerous, and she knew if the Dark Lord found out her plan, she would surely pay in pain.

"No one put I know you are in this building tonight. It might be wise to disguise yourself, Bellatrix," Severus said snidely, opening the large oak doors.

Without opening her mouth to protest, Narcissa tapped her wand on top of sister's head, and an unfamiliar cold shiver ran through Bellatrix's body. Bellatrix immediately knew what happened. Lifting up her hand, she saw nothing. A Disillusionment Charm was performed.

Without saying a word, Severus led Narcissa and an invisible Bellatrix down to the dungeons and into his office. His office was quite large, and actually quite large due to the formidable fire Severus had in the fireplace. Two black plush armchairs were conjured up which fell neatly behind Bellatrix and Narcissa; all they had to do was sit down.

"Stay here," Severus growled, causing a frown to sprout from Bellatrix's mouth. She was not used to taking orders.

"I want to go with you." Bellatrix stood up.

Snape, who was nearly halfway to the door, turned on his heel. He raised his eyebrow, his left hand moving down slightly towards the wand in his belt. "And I suppose having a convicted Death Eater walking the halls of Hogwarts, which is regularly patrolled by members of the Order of the Phoenix and Albus Dumbledore himself, will not arise some sense of panic and chaos within the boundaries of the last safe hold the wizarding world has?"

"She is my _daughter_," Bellatrix growled.

Narcissa tugged on the hand of her oldest sister, pleading for her to sit down. Narcissa tugged harder, taking a handful of Bellatrix's black robe and pulling it downward once more. Severus and Bellatrix had nearly burned holes in each other's eyes when Bellatrix unwillingly sat down. Severus left his office, the door locking with a soft _click_.

"What is he going to do?" Bellatrix asked, her eyes surveying the room. Large books with faded gold lettering on the spines filled the bookshelf to the left. The fire was crackling to her right. Severus's desk was simple: two stacks of books were at the ends of his desk, a large pile of papers—all neatly stacked—right in the middle. For such a greasy slimeball, Severus sure was clean.

-----

It had been hours since Lyra overheard Harry, Ron, and Hermione's conversation in the library, but still she was tossing and turning in bed, thinking about the words she had heard. Lyra knew it was coming—Harry knew it was coming—even _Voldemort_ knew it was coming. It was only a matter time before Voldemort would come to Hogwarts, destroying everything in his path to Harry Potter. There was no doubt in Lyra's mind that her mother would be there. From everything she had heard, Bellatrix Lestrange was Voldemort's number one accomplice, his most loyal servant.

Her mind was racing as she went through her options: wait at Hogwarts for Harry Potter to be picked off like the defected item on an assembly line or take control of her situation and find her mother. Either way, their meeting would not be in the best of circumstances… but now that Lyra knew who her mother was, nothing would stand in her way. Not Lucius Malfoy, not Minerva McGonagall, and definitely not Severus Snape. Kicking off her blanket, Lyra silently got out of bed. Opening her trunk, she took out a faded leather pouch. It's emptiness was soon filled with money, both Muggle and wizard, a few key spellbooks, and a change of clothes.

Lyra wrote a quick note of goodbye to the Slytherin house (she would send someone from the Malfoy Manor to collect the rest of her things) and not to worry (she would be okay… and if she wasn't, it was a pleasure), but things had to be done. Placing the note upon her freshly made bed, Lyra tiptoed out of the girls dormitory.

"Going somewhere?" Professor Snape's silky voice came from the shadows. He emerged from the entrance to the Common Room.

"I'm going to find my mother," Lyra replied.

A significant look of pleasure spread across Snape's face. "She's here."

-----

In the time since Snape had left the room, Bellatrix had gotten up and was pacing the room, muttering to herself.

"Bella, please!" Narcissa cried. "It's going to be fine. Your daughter is strong. She's resourceful. I've been taking care of her."

In a flash of black, Bellatrix pulled her wand out of her robe and held it against the pale flesh of her sister. "Only since I've gotten out of Azkaban! Your _lunatic_ husband sent her away!"

The vein in Bellatrix's head was now throbbing, her breath quick and shallow. Anger surged through her Black blood--- the family's temper was now arising.

"You know I would've done anything to keep her," Narcissa breathed. Her pulse was racing. Her sister was irrational and erratic, but she had never turned her wand against her own sister.

"But you didn't. She knew nothing of her heritage! She thought she was a _Malfoy_. Of all the pureblood families!" Bellatrix cried, pointing her wand up in the air, away from her sister. Suddenly, as if struck by a magical bullet, she dropped her wand. It rattled on the wooden desk and rolled to the stone floor beneath it.

"Bella?"

Bellatrix raised her left arm to show her sister the moving snake. The Dark Mark was moving.

"He knows."


End file.
